LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



Sermons and Lectures 



THE REV. ROBERT T. NABORS, 

Chaplain of Vanderbilt University. 



WITH 



A Biographical Sketclj of tlje Author 



BY REV. A. S. ANDREWS, D.D., 

President of Southern University. 



ia^ 



K- 



J. D. Barbee, Agent, 

Publishing House of the M. E. Church, South. 

Printed for Mrs. Robert T. Nabors. 

Nashville, Tenn. 

1888. 




iX^-533 
.H-3^ 



EDITOR'S NOTE. 

The sermons contained in this volume give evidence of a mind 
richly endowed with many of the finest qualities. The author 
passed away before he had reached the meridian of his powers, and 
we mourn for the loss of one who was eminently qualified to stand 
in the front rank of modern preachers. The proofs of his superior 
intellect will be seen in these sermons and lectures, and the reader 
will find in them much food for reflection and many lessons that are 
profitable for edification, for the building of a true, noble, Christian 
character. The Book Editor. 



Entered, according to \ct of Congress, in the year 1886, 

By the Book Agents of the Methodist Episcopal Church, Soirrn, 

in the Office of the Librarian Of Congress, at Washington. 



PREFACE. 

Mr. Nabors thought with his pen in hand. He made ample 
preparation to preach, and left behind him a large number of man- 
uscripts. In looking over these for material for this volume, it was 
difficult to make selections. Only a few of the sermons and lectures 
which were written for special occasions are contained in this collec- 
tion, because at the time of their delivery fresh marginal notes were 
made which ought to be included in the discourses, and to do this 
would have demanded more time and attention than other pressing 
duties would allow. The contents of this volume are given to the 
public just as they fell from his pen, to be delivered from week to 
week to his people. Not one of them was prepared for the press. 
Had they been designed for the public, his pen would doubtless have 
put upon them the burnish that appeared in their delivery. The 
reader will miss the emphasis, grace, and power which his presence, 
the tones of his voice, and his splendid action in the pulpit gave 
them. 

The affection of one who loved him as a father, and to whom he 
was more than a son, made it difficult to tell the story of his life; 
and hence it has been chiefly done in the words of others. The ar- 
rangement of the discourses and the style cf the book have been left 
to the discretion of the Book Editor. A. S. Andrews. 

(3) 



DEDICATION. 

TO THE CHUKCHES THAT HE FAITHFULLY SERVED AND TENDERLY 
LOVED, 

AND WHICH HAVE 

MANIFESTED SUCH A HIGH APPRECIATION OF HIS LABORS, 

This Volume is Inscribed. 



CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Biographical Sketch of the Author 5 

The Christian Life 33 

The Ideal Man. (A lecture delivered before the Lyceum, 

Houston, Texas, 1879) 45 

Earthly and Heavenly Things 57 

Filled with All the Fullness of God 68 

Glorying in Tribulation 81 

Forgiveness and Retribution 91 

The Tower-builder 101 

Paul's Sermon Before Felix 113 

The Profit of Godliness 124 

Brain Power: The Ultimate End of Mental Culture. 
(A lecture delivered in Huntsville, Ala., at the commence- 
ment of the Huntsville Female College, June, 1882) 135 

Moses 149 

Abel and Christ 161 

The Great Assassination 172 

An Abundant Entrance 184 

Special Providence 196 

The Power of the Resurrection 208 

The Witness of the Spirit 216 

Christian Perfection 227 

The Resurrection Body 240 

Christ Crucified the Power of God 252 

The Manifestation of God in the Flesh 262 

The Christian Alchemy 273 

The Gain of the World and the Loss of the Soul 286 

The Comparative Value of Life , , , , 298 

(4) 



i BMRAPHML SKETCH OF THE AUTHOR, 

BY EEV. A. S. ANDREWS, D.D. 



JTTHAT death loves a shining mark lias received a fresh verification 
in the early demise of the late Rev. Robert Taylor Nabors. He 
was born in Shelby county, Alabama, on the thirteenth day of July, 
1850. His father, Harrison Vaughn ISTabors, was a native of South 
Carolina, a man born with the instincts and intuitions of a gentle- 
man. He possessed an ardent temperament, had quick and tender 
sensibilities, and was an earnest patriot. Truth and honor were 
dear to him; he abhorred all that was little, despicable, and mean, 
and in domestic life he was tender and affectionate. His mother 
was Ruth Teague, a native of Alabama, and a woman of rare quali- 
ties of mind and heart. She has reached her three-score years and 
ten, and stands in sweet expectancy upon the confines of that mys- 
terious and glorious realm lately entered by the spotless spirit of her 
gifted son. Though now in the "autumn leaf" of life, her tall, erect, 
and slender form, crowned with a noble head of gray hair, gives ev- 
idence of what she was in the "auld lang syne" when led to Hy- 
men's altar by the man she loved. Her clear-cut features, her well 
chiseled brow, expressive mouth, prominent nose, and brilliant eyes 
show how much the son was indebted to his mother. Her calmness, 
her good sense, and her deep, holy trust in God after many years of 
bereavement and sorrow, disclose the source of his self-command and 
poise amid the most trying scenes of his short but eventful life. His 
childhood was not specially remarkable. It abounded in the joys 
and sorrows, tasks and pastimes of other children. He was not un- 
usually devoted to books, and to him at that age "much study was a 
weariness of the flesh." He was fond of the woods and fields, had a 
boy's estimate of dogs and guns, fishing-rods and horseback exercise. 
To him trees and vines, forests and streams, birds and fishes, " cattle 
and creeping things," made their daily contributions. Winds and 
waters had their voices for him, and all nature poured her melodies 
into his sensitive ear. Through these channels the great Author of 
nature spoke to the susceptible child, and impressed him with a rev- 

(5j 



6 A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 

erence and awe that were never forgotten. His after life, his power 
of apt illustration of spiritual truths, showed how deeply he had 
communed with things around him, and how from "childhood's 
hour" he had been laying up stores that were to be largely drawn 
upon in after life. The tints of flowers, the rich colors of the rain- 
bow, the deep blue of the sky, the varying hues of shifting clouds, 
the freshness of the dewy morning, the splendors of noon, the gray 
shadows of evening, the star-lit night, and the awful gloom of "out- 
er darkness," all had their lessons for him, stirred the depths of his 
soul, and contributed to the richness of his vocabulary. His mother 
was gentle and kind to him, sympathized with him in all his wishes 
and moods, and crossed and chided him only as she believed that his 
real welfare demanded. His father watched him carefully, had an 
eye toward his growth and development, and when his son grew 
tired of the school-room he was assigned an important place in the 
field. The surest antidote for book and school aversion is found in 
the implements of a farmer's life. The plow and hoe have a mag- 
ical effect upon the tired school-boy. Six hours a day of honest, 
regular work will ordinarily cure the most inveterate case. The fa- 
ther of young Nabors was well versed in this species of practical 
wisdom, and he applied it well in the government of his son. Un- 
der the influence of this wise and timely discipline, the subject of this 
sketch grew to be a lad of fourteen summers. He Avas not all sen- 
timent and fancy, impulse and emotion, but he learned habits of 
business, became cognizant of the value of time, and realized the 
fact that all we have outside of the simple gifts of nature come into 
our possession through the blessings of God upon the labors of our 
hands, brains, and hearts. Thus supported and nourished by father 
and mother, their blood mingling equally in his veins and their 
sentiments and tastes blending in his life, young Nabors grew in 
stature and waxed in mental strength as he approximated manhood. 
At this period of his life two things tended greatly to check any 
natural bias toward excessive sensibility, and to stir and stimulate 
whatever of practical wisdom God and parental culture had given 
him. The civil war between the States, ending disastrously for his 
section, had reduced the people of the South to comparative pov- 
erty; and his father, who was now needed as the head of his family 
more than ever before, sickened and died. The widowed mother, 
with six daughters, was now dependent upon herself and her sons. 
The two older of these came home from the Avar Aveary and Avorn; 



A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 



the first-born to go down speedily into his untimely grave, and the 
second to unite with the youngest in the support of their honored 
mother and loving sisters. The outlook was dreary, and only the 
eye of faith could penetrate the gloom ; but that eye in the mother's 
heart was wide open, and it took in at a glance all the stores of a 
gracious Providence. Her profound trust has not been disappointed. 
The widows' and the orphans' Friend has not failed her. The un- 
fortunate family, feeling the world's cold breath, drew nearer to each 
other, and warmed themselves by the fires of mutual love. The 
heart of the mother brooded over her fatherless children, the hearts 
of the sisters were knit together, and the souls of the two broth- 
ers embraced each other as tenderly as did David's and Jona- 
than's. Hand in hand they roamed forest and field, and if God had 
willed it they would have walked life's whole journey together — twin 
spirits united by ligaments of love. 

In the increased burdens and responsibilities which bereavement 
and misfortune had heaped upon him, young Nabors felt his weak- 
ness and saw his need of supernatural aid. In his conscious help- 
lessness he stole away to his father's grave, fell in grief upon the 
little hillock heaped upon the ashes of the dead; and when no voice 
came from the grave and no human help was in sight, the weeping 
boy turned his tear-stained face upward, and called with quivering 
lips upon his ever-living Father in heaven. Though no radical 
change of heart occurred at that time, yet there was a felt presence 
in the grave-yard which, though unseen, breathed forth compassion 
and comfort upon the heart of the sobbing youth. 

As time passed, increasing skill in business was acquired. His 
habits were good, and work came to him, bringing with it compen- 
sation and brightening the home of his mother and sisters. It must 
not be understood that these folded their hands and waited to be 
served by others. On the contrary, the whole family, like a busy 
hive, toiled, and vied with each other in their contributions for their 
mutual life and happiness. Their simple home was neat and tidy; 
the well-clad, well-fed, and well-featured inmates were often hap- 
pier, and infinitely purer and nobler, than the occupants of many a 
palatial residence. 

At a protracted meeting held in Columbiana during his sixteenth 
year, and conducted by Rev. L. M. Wilson, the truth took hold upon 
young Nabors's heart. He saw himself a sinner, guilty, and doomed 
without Divine aid, but heartily confessed his sins, and prayed for 



8 A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 

mercy and salvation through Jesus Christ. The struggle was deep, 
earnest, and honest. He gave his whole heart to God, and became 
consciously " a new creature " in Jesus Christ. When he awoke to 
the reality of the truth of divine things, his life grew larger, bright- 
er, and richer than ever before. A new day had dawned upon him, 
a day whose sun would never set. Natural life, even the greatest 
and best, now seemed mere vassalage in comparison with the nobil- 
ity, freedom, and blessedness revealed in Christ. In this new and 
fresh fountain that he had found through faith he took delight, and 
from its cool, sweet waters he drew refreshing draughts daily. He 
could no more be the same that he had been than the butterfly could 
turn to the chrysalis from which it sprung. God and heaven were 
now so much nobler than any thing earthly that he lived anew and 
reconstructed all his views of "things temporal" and "things spirit- 
ual." Fed in his soul from infinite stores, his feet illumined by a 
light superior to the sun, and his spirit warmed by the conscious 
presence and breath of his Infinite Father, what had he to fear? 
and in his poverty what had he to want? God can and will take 
care of those who put their trust in him. In this new faith, he took 
courage and pressed forward. But in the fresh light that blazed 
around him, and in the inspiration that came upon him With the 
baptism of the Holy Ghost, a life-mission rose before him that made 
him tremble from head to foot. Should he walk, live, eat, and 
drink in this inner, this sublime spirit-world, and not tell to others 
what he saw, heard, and felt? And if he should yield to this sug- 
gestion, would not fidelity to his heavenly Parent be treason to his 
earthly? 

Here was a problem that he could not solve, and it formed the 
basis of a trial for which he was not prepared. He had a few weeks 
previous to this time, as he thought, given himself to God, and he 
really had; for that Holy One never receives half a heart. But 
now he was farther advanced in Christian life and experience, was 
more in himself through grace, and was called upon afresh to give 
his entire being to God with all that he had acquired and with all 
the possibilities that slumbered within him. This was a trial fully 
as great as that through which he passed in entering the strait gate 
and in learning to walk the narrow way. And just here his old 
spiritual foes — "the world, the flesh, and the devil" — came back to 
him with large reinforcements, and they assaulted him front and 
rear. The sea of his religious life, that had been so deep, clear, and 



A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 9 

smooth, was now agitated with the breath of a tempest, and his frail 
little bark rose and fell with the waves, or careened to the right- 
hand or left as impelled by the pulses of the deep. But on this sea 
of doubt, however the wind shifted and blew, he still felt the pres- 
ence of a guiding hand ; and through the mist and foam he saw at 
the helm a being of superhuman mien, who could and would reach 
the land in safety, provided this spiritual iEneas would be willing 
to anchor in the still waters of the divinely chosen port. 

The call to the Christian ministry seemed to be clear and loud, but 
the claims of his mother and sisters pressed with ponderous weight 
upon his heart. Was not duty to his widowed mother fealty to God, 
and would not any mode of life that included even a temporary neg- 
lect of her show that he had denied the faith and was " worse than 
an infidel?" And now, when approaching manhood so rapidly, 
could he afford to throw away his business development and begin 
life in a new and .awfully responsible form? These questions bore 
the harder upon him both because he had no educational fitness 
for the new vocation and because some of his worldly friends dis- 
suaded him from the rashness of the course that he thought himself 
called to pursue. Had he suddenly grown wiser than all of his 
teachers, and should he wholly disregard the counsels of those whom 
God in his providence had made his advisers? But others, Chris- 
tian friends to whom he unbosomed himself, quieted his fears and 
pointed him to facts that encouraged and animated him. They re- 
minded him that from childhood he had been able to speak. He 
had, too, a natural courage that grew in exeitement, and which made 
him calm and self-possessed under the most trying circumstances. 
He was never so much himself as when called upon in the school- 
room, at the close of a session's work, to recite a selection from some 
chosen author or to speak something that was the product of his own 
brain and pen. Upon such occasions, when a mere lad, as he stood 
upon the stage with his slender form erect, his features would light 
up, his face would glow, his eye kindle, and he would speak with an 
ease and grace that delighted and surprised his auditors. In his 
sober moods his grave deportment had caused, his father to call him 
his "little preacher;" and now, when that father's voice was hushed 
in death, the child was the priest of his mother's house, led in the 
evening devotions, and fulfilled the unconscious prophecy. His 
heart, too, was in these exercises, and he entered upon them with 
the eagerness and relish of the play -impulse, while other duties and 



10 A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 

those of a different character fatigued and burdened him. His 
courage was stimulated; he was reminded that lie could encounter 
difficulties. During the late war, like the stripling David, he had 
been sent to the army with supplies and messages to his brothers. 
On these occasions he had made long and perilous journeys, the risk 
and danger of which had been increased by the valuable interests 
committed to his care. He had carried fresh horses to his brothers 
in the Confederate cavalry, and had done so successfully when a 
horse was more highly esteemed than a soldier. Day and night, 
amidst rain and sunshine, cold and heat, friends and foes, he had gone 
forth upon these dangerous missions; but in the midst of all these 
trying scenes God had heard his prayers, and an unseen hand had 
guided his course. In no instance had his mission failed, no interest 
committed to his care had been lost, and no inhuman lion or merci- 
less bear prowling in the rear of either army had laid its paw upon 
his person or breathed its hot breath in his face; and the conviction 
began to grow in his mind that if he could find his duty the God 
of David would guide and direct, shield and protect him in its per- 
formance. 

When the war which these opposing arguments produced had for 
weeks been raging in his agitated spirit, he felt that the time had 
come to put an end to the strife. At the close of a hard day's work 
in the store where he was employed as clerk, he felt that the decision 
must then be made. In the final issue he saw that there were in re- 
ality only two parties whose claims were to be considered in this 
great transaction — God and himself. And when the struggle had 
narrowed down to these, the Creator called and the creature re- 
sponded. On bended knees, he saw that neither father nor mother, 
brother nor sister, houses nor lands, should come between him and 
God. And there, once and forever, he became the Lord's for any 
work, in any place, to which he might be called. His was the voice 
of young Samuel: " Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth." In- 
stantly his mind was enveloped in light, his soul flooded with peace, 
and his spirit "filled with all the fullness of God." He was for 
hours in perfect ecstasy, and heaven's minstrelsy burst upon his 
ears. When sober consciousness aroused him from this spiritual 
trance, and when in the full play of all his powers he reflected upon 
what had occurred, his judgment and conscience acquiesced, and the 
great transaction between his soul and God was fixed and sealed. 
Providence opened his way. Just as he had given himself to -God 



A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 11 



for the work of the Christian ministry, the means for his preparation 
came to hand. A society had been formed in the Alabama Confer- 
ence for the assistance of young preachers; but still with this stim- 
ulant the number entering the ministry was by far too small for the 
wants of the work, and the people of Summerfield had inaugurated 
meetings for prayer, the object of which was to beseech God to call 
and send forth into his vineyard more laborers. One of these 
prayer-meetings had just closed, and as Dr. A. H. Mitchell left the 
meeting, went by the post-office, opened and read his letters, he 
found one from Kobert T. Nabors making inquiries in reference to 
the facilities offered to young preachers by the Summerfield Insti- 
tute. At once the providence of God seemed to be using the day's 
occurrences in the interests of his kingdom, and young Nabors was 
invited to Summerfield. Under the influence of Kev. Dr. A. H. 
Mitchell and others, he entered the male department of Summer- 
field Institute, then under the control of Dr. John Massey, and be- 
gan to prepare himself for college. From the beginning he was a 
diligent and apt student, was in the hands of an accomplished mas- 
ter, and made the best possible use of the facilities placed within his 
reach. His devotion to books was regular and systematic, his acqui- 
sitions were large and rapidly made, and his knowledge soon became 
accurate and at his command. He acquired with ease, and he pos- 
sessed a memory like wax, that retains every impress that is made 
upon it. While he was laying the foundation for thorough scholar- 
ship, he was unconsciously absorbing facts and principles that were 
to live and grow through life. Noble examples of Christian manhood 
were before him in his teachers, Drs. Hamilton and Mitchell, Bish- 
op Andrew, and others. He saw in these men the holy model ac- 
cording to which his ow r n life and character were to be formed. 

"While at Summerfield, though so young, he was occasionally 
asked to preach; and when his hour came he had a full house and 
eager listeners. His progress was marked and his growth most con- 
spicuous. Dr. Massey says of him: "I never saw a young man make 
such rapid strides in his studies and development." He formed 
friendships in Summerfield that continued through life. At the 
close of two years spent in the academy, his little means and the aid 
furnished by his friends having been consumed, he felt that he must 
go to work. He experienced no difficulty in finding it. 

A church was vacant in the town of Wetumpka, Ala., and he was 
appointed to fill the place. He went there totally destitute of ex- 



12 A Biograjihical Sketch of the Author. 

perience, but entered upon his pastorate with a faith and courage 
that were born of his abiding trust in God. He read and prayed 
and visited and preached as best he could. He did not come up to 
the measure of the " well-instructed scribe, who brings forth out of 
his treasury things new and old." His books were few, his knowl- 
edge circumscribed, and his influence small. "What could a mere 
stripling yet in his teens do where age, experience, wisdom, and 
piety had often been wielded to little purpose? But the young 
preacher was on a theological and intellectual plane with a majority 
of his hearers. He thought and felt as they did, and his simple, 
boyish discourses were delivered with ease and in a style and man- 
ner that took hold upon the hearts of his hearers. He preached 
the truth, told his experience, pointed to purity and heaven, and led 
the way in his own consecrated life and godly conversation. Souls 
were brought to Christ, Christians were established in the faith, and 
God himself dwelt in the midst of his people. Even at this early 
age he showed signs of promise, and those who knew him best be- 
lieved that there was before him a bright future. 

This short experience of Mr. Nabors as a temporary pastor in 
AVetumpka was attended by at least one noble result. It did much 
to convince him that a deeper and broader culture was absolutely 
necessary to prepare him for the duties of his holy vocation ; and 
under the guidance of the late Dr. Jefferson Hamilton, of the Ala- 
bama Conference, assisted by Mr. J. Lee Terrell, of Marengo county, 
Alabama, he desisted temporarily from further ministerial labors, 
and in the fall of 1870 entered the Southern University, located at 
Greensboro, Ala., and was admitted into the junior class. He took 
the full academic and scientific courses. He wished complete and 
thorough scholarship, and to secure it he was willing to master the 
whole curriculum. In the class-room, the society hall, and on the 
rostrum, he Avas conspicuous. He shunned no duty, left no task un- 
finished, and commanded alike the respect and confidence of officers 
and students. While he stood among the first in all his classes, he 
ranked especially high in declamation and composition. Few young 
men equaled him in scholarship, none surpassed him in their ready 
command of the information and discipline of the college course; 
and none in his alma mater during his collegiate life equaled him 
in well-pruned imagination, wealth of speech, and powers of utter- 
ance. He possessed a readiness, self-control, and poise that few 
young men can command either upon the rostrum or in the sacred 



A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 13 

desk. He was modest, yet always self-possessed ; ready, but never 
obtrusive. 

There is one evil sometimes incident to college life the power of 
which he now felt and deeply deplored. The simplicity and easi- 
ness of his youthful faith Avere passing away. Difficulties that he 
had never seen were encountered, and enemies to the Christian faith 
of whose existence he had no conception until now assaulted him. 
The Mosaic account of creation, the unity of the human race, the 
life in Eden, the test of obedience furnished by the fruit of the in- 
terdicted tree, the fall and ultimate ruin of the Adamic family, all 
of which he had unquestioningly included in his youthful creed, 
now suggested problems that he could not answer and that in some 
instances seemed at war with the facts of science and the deductions 
of philosophy. The divinity and humanity of Christ blended and 
united in the man Jesus of Nazareth, the nature and extent of in- 
spiration, the vicarious atonement of Jesus Christ, the conditions 
upon which the benefits of his death are to be received, and the per- 
sonality raid power of the Holy Ghost, who " takes the things of 
Christ and shows them to us," that were all so simple and real once, 
now were fraught with difficulties, and had a history and complex- 
ity that he had never seen. He had no pleasure in doubts, despised 
the vanity and littleness of beardless skeptics, and concealed from 
others the difficulties and fears that were born of study, reading, 
thought, and contact with the scientific world. At first the cloud 
grew dark over him, the air was crisp and chill, and the zeal and 
ardor of the young ecclesiastic were dampened, though not extin- 
guished. At times his sufferings were intense, and the gloom around 
him was black as night ; but closer study, more general investigation, 
prayer to God, and a more extensive acquaintance with the literary 
and scientific world, dispelled the darkness and became the harbin- 
gers of a more glorious gospel-day than had yet dawned upon his 
spirit. 

"When this new light broke upon him, as it did near the close 
of his college life, it was to be followed by no more night, but by a 
radiance that was "to shine more and more unto the perfect day." 
In all his after life his spiritual latitude and longitude were fixed. 
He "knew in whom he had believed," and no wind or storm could 
turn him out of his course. Amidst all the tides and currents of 
thought and discovery, his needle pointed to the pole of Christian 
orthodoxv; and everv wind and gale that filled his sails, from what- 



14 A Biograpldcal Sketch of the Author. 



ever quarter it blew, wafted him steadily onward toward the destined 
port of peace and salvation. 

During his last year at the university his proficiency in the an- 
cient languages secured him a tutorship in Greek and Latin. He 
performed the duties of this office while he carried on the studies 
of the senior year; and he did both in such a complete and success- 
ful manner that he seemed to put forth his whole force in each. 
But it was not until he had passed through his final examinations 
that his full proficiency as a scholar and the promise of a ripe and 
glorious manhood were fully manifested. As he neared the goal of 
his youthful aspiration, his friends saw that in his case time and 
money had not been wasted in the seemingly slow, steady process of 
college culture and discipline. When he received his diploma, as 
he stood upon the rostrum and delivered his graduating-speech, the 
immense audience heard him with delight. Bouquets were show- 
ered at his feet, and old men nodded to each other and whispered in 
under-tones words of approbation and prophecy. They had seldom 
heard so much said in so short a time, and yet the power of what he 
had uttered had been more than doubled by the felicitous manner 
in which he had spoken, His words are remembered. The dulcet 
tones of his voice still ring in the ears of his auditors, and his hand- 
some form and classical features are still there upon the rostrum, 
photographed upon the memories of those who heard him. 

On the twenty-fourth day of June, 1873, ten days before his grad- 
uation, the Masonic fraternity of Greensboro, Ala., the seat of the 
university, invited Mr, Nabors to address them. He complied with 
their request, and made the occasion memorable in the estimation 
of all who heard him. His theme was "The Voice of Symbolism." 
A few passages will show the character of the address. In his ex- 
ordium he said: 

" In a splendid art-gallery at Bome may be seen life-portraits of 
the four evangelists. Each one is so finished as to symbolize a great 
truth. Matthew is painted as a man, because the animus of his 
gospel deals more directly with the humanity of Christ. Mark is 
represented as a lion, illustrating the bold and fearless style with 
which he opens his gospel narration. Luke is represented as an ox, 
symbolical of the great idea of a sacrificial atonement, which the 
glowing spirit of his gospel so forcibly inculcates. But to John, the 
evangelist whose strong, far-reaching gaze darts through the somber 
curtains of futurity, and who, rising on the wings of faith and love, 



A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 15 

with one mighty sweep stands before the divine throne and revels 
in eternal beauty and glory, were given the qualities of an eagle. 
To commemorate the death of this apostle is the explanation of our 
assemblage to-night. We come not with the pomp and pageantry 
of war to celebrate the unsullied patriotism of a military hero, but 
all the music, insignia, and paraphernalia of this occasion tend to 
keep in the Masonic heart the moral grandeur and sublimity of a 
man whose life was the essence of virtue and love, whose character 
was the most brilliant orb that ever illuminated the sky of Masonry 
and whose death was one of the most triumphant that ever robbed 
the grave of its spectral gloom." 

In the body of the discourse he said: 

" Symbols are the speech of God. Through them eternity looks 
down into time, the infinite holds communion with the finite, the 
divine with the human. Especially in the infancy of the race, 
when metaphysical truth pent up in the heart of man could find no 
spoken language to convey its meaning, did the mind seek to ex- 
press itself through symbols. How must the souls of Egyptian and 
Chaldean magi have thrilled with rapture as wave after wave of 
thought thus rolled across their minds! How the immortal fires 
must have burned within as flash after flash of truth darted through 
these symbols into their souls, revealing the grand ideas of God, 
eternity, and immortality! Such thoughts must find expression, 
and their utterance is found in the glowing symbols interwoven into 
every page of ancient Eastern philosophy. The passing restless mul- 
titude saw nothing more in them than the ancients saw in the riddle 
of the sphinx, but to a responsive soul every symbol seemed ready 
to bend and break with the burden of a special revelation. It was 
no doubt this advanced state of mind, which moved in a purer atmos- 
phere of thought unappreciated by the crowd, that gave rise to se- 
cret organizations like Masonry for the preservation and transmis- 
sion of those truths destined to open up a higher civilization." 

In his peroration he said : 

" Brethren of the mystic tie ; allow me to urge you to be loyal to 
the grand principles of your order, so that when God's last trump 
shall wake sleeping millions from their graves, you may be numbered 
with that long procession of masters craftsmen, and apprentices who 
shall march in triumph to the heavenly city at the command of the 
Grand Master above, where banner and plume and crosier and cross 
shall be bathed in the ineffable light of eternitv." 



16 A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 

These periods show the maturity of his mind, his breadth of 
thought, and the taste and ease with which he expressed himself. 

Mr. Nabors was now ready for his life-work. The foundation had 
been laid deep and broad. He could now dip his hands into Hie old 
classic urns that had been filled by inspiration and pour forth their 
contents to the thousands around him. He did not feel warranted 
in waiting longer. He could, in connection with his ministerial la- 
bors, prosecute his studies, and do so nearly as well and almost as 
fast as in a regular theological school ; and with the resources and 
training that he possessed, he could study and make his own the 
works of the great Christian masters of preceding ages. And now 
the conviction stirred afresh in his soul, "Woe is unto me if I preach 
not the gospel ! " He did not have long to wait. Bishop Keener, one 
of*the wisest and best of our chief pastors, sat behind him on the 
rostrum when he delivered his graduating-speech, and in a few 
weeks he called him to the Texas Conference, and put him in charge 
of St. James's Church, in the city of Galveston. This was not an 
easy place for a young man fresh from college, with few sermons 
and comparatively little experience. The Church was a new one, 
still in an unfinished state, and his congregation had, to some ex- 
tent, to be collected and prepared for their places in the sanctuary. 
Such a work is difficult, and energy, skill, consecration, and piety 
are indispensable to success. To take a new enterprise of this sort, 
to organize and build it up, requires a deeper insight into human 
nature and a larger degree of common sense than to fill acceptably 
a more conspicuous position. But in the case before us no mistake 
was made. Mr. Nabors's place was filled, and well filled. He had 
been in his pulpit a few weeks only when his house began to fill, his 
people drew closer to him, the Christian public became aware of 
his presence in Galveston, and the city press bore weekly testimony 
to the earnestness, popularity, and fidelity of his ministry. By de- 
grees his influence spread, his name went abroad, and some of the 
first people in all the leading Protestant Churches of the city often 
sat in his Sunday evening congregations. Quite a number of those 
who were drawn to his church through curiosity were led to Christ, 
and took their places among his people. 

For two years and a half he made "full proof of his ministry," 
and like his Divine Master "grew in wisdom and favor with God and 
man." He sacrificed nothing for public favor, shunned no duty, 
shrunk from no responsibility, but declared "the whole counsel of 



A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 17 

God." He studied sedulously and regularly, read the best books, 
and made ample preparation for his pulpit. He would not hazard 
his usefulness by trusting to the inspiration of circumstances. He 
was a good pastor, visited from house to house, and cared for the sick, 
poor, and unfortunate in his charge. He enjoyed the presence of his 
friends and was fond of the society of ladies, but wasted no time in 
light, frivolous conversation. His deportment was grave though 
cheerful, and his prudence and forethought beyond one of his years. 
While the passing multitude crowded his church and the young 
hung upon his words with rapt attention, his greatest admirers and 
truest friends were among the wisest, gravest, most conservative and 
pious in the Church. In his reading, studies, observation, and inter- 
course with men he sowed "beside all waters," and as far as possible 
"intermeddled with all wisdom;" but his greatest care was for the 
state of his own heart, and his highest aspiration to please Him " who 
had loved him and given himself for him." In this process of shap* 
ing and molding his ministerial character he was greatly indebted 
to Rev. Dr. J. B. Walker, of the Louisiana Conference, to whom he 
often makes affectionate reference in his diary. 

A single passage from his pen and a few quotations from the press, 
written while he was stationed in Galveston, will show his intellect- 
ual status as a man and a minister of Jesus Christ. About this time 
he wrote an article for the Texas Advocate, the title of which was 
" Credentials of Methodism : " 

" Born of Methodist parents and reared in a town that had been 
captured by Methodism before we had any idea of conscious exist- 
ence, we had always entertained a high opinion of the Methodist 
Church; but until we listened to the masterly address of Bishop 
Doggett on l The Progress of Methodism in the Nineteenth Cent- 
ury,' we had but faint conceptions of its grandeur, exhaustless vital- 
ity, and irresistible aggressiveness. One hundred and fifty years 
ago Methodism, as an organization, could not claim even a human 
conception; to-day it outnumbers any Protestant denomination in 
the United States. Not only so, but with the life of the Son of God 
throbbing and pulsating through its whole organism, it is pushing its 
conquests into the remotest regions beyond. As far northward to- 
ward the Arctic iceberg, under the sheen of the aurora, as human 
life is found, the genius of Methodism wends its way. Amid the 
tropics of the extreme South its benedictions fall; its songs com- 
mingle with the roar of the Atlantic and resound along the coast of 
2 



18 A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 

the far West, where the bosom of the Pacific receives into its watery 
depth the fiery sun. Looking out through the historic glass from 
our present vantage-ground, we see the flag of Methodism floating 
in every breeze, and its light and glory girdling the entire globe. Its 
success is unparalleled, and the world's conquest by it is simply a 
matter of time. If the millennium ever comes, and all the Churches 
are merged into one, the indications now are that upon it will be 
indelibly stamped the Methodistic form and features. What the 
Church has done, what she is now doing, and what she proposes to 
do are her brightest credentials. ' Py their fruits ye shall know 
them' is the divinely given test of Christian ministers and Churches. 
Methodism does not flinch from the application. When John the 
Baptist sent a committee of his disciples to Jesus to ascertain wheth- 
er or not he was the Christ, the only answer given was, 'Go and tell 
John what ye have seen and heard.' The works of Jesus were his 
credentials. So Methodism challenges the world. Look at the 
number and splendor of her triumphs, and behold in these her di- 
vinely given credentials. And she is just getting under headway. 
She is subsidizing all the active agencies of civilization in her prep- 
aration for further conquests and greater victories. As in the past, 
so to-day she clasps hands with education, despite the false state- 
ments of her enemies. Methodism is as much at home in the In- 
dian wigwam as in the home of culture and aesthetics. She is iden- 
tified with Christ, his truth and spirit are in her, and she is admi- 
rably adapted to all conditions of humanity. She has nothing to 
fear while her children are loyal to God and true to themselves." 

During his pastorate in Galveston, he delivered a lecture in Chapel 
Hill, Texas, before the pupils of Soule University, which made a 
deep impression upon his hearers. The town paper refers to it as 
follows: "The address of Rev. R. T. Nabors followed. We antici- 
pated an excellent effort, but the speaker surpassed the expectations 
of his friends. It was rich in thought, finished in style, chaste and 
elegant in illustration, and delivered in an admirable manner. All 
were delighted." 

During the summer of this year he returned to Alabama on a visit 
to kindred and friends. He spent his last Sunday during this visit 
with his mother and sisters in Columbiana, his native place, and 
preached to the people at night. The Shelby Sentinel thus speaks of 
this effort: "Last night we had the pleasure of hearing a sermon 
from our young friend Rev. R. T. Nabors, of the Methodist Episco- 



A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 19 

pal Church, South. A large congregation listened very attentively 
to the inspiring words that fell from the orator's lips. He confined 
himself strictly to his text, and, without the least impediment in 
speech or gesture, elucidated his subject and enchained the minds of 
his hearers. Mr. JSabors will leave for his home in Galveston in 
a few days, and will carry with him the best wishes of a host of 
friends." 

At the ensuing Annual Conference, held in Brenham, Texas, Mr. 
Nabors was appointed to Houston station. This was one of the most 
important places in the Texas Conference, and such a charge put into 
the hands of a young man in the fourth year of his ministry, showed 
the estimate in which he was held by the Bishop and his counsel- 
ors. At that time Houston was in process of rapid development. 
It was fortunately located for commerce, had both water and railroad 
facilities, was steadily growing in population, and business and pro- 
fessional men were reaping the rich rewards of industry, economy, 
and enterprise in the great South-west. A bright future was open- 
ing to the citizens of Houston, and the pressing wants of high re- 
ligious culture and spiritual development were apparent to every 
thoughtful Christian. Bishop Pierce, who held the Conference at 
Brenham that year, was too wise a General Superintendent not to see 
the importance of a strong man in Shearn Church, Houston. Mr. 
Nabors's eminent fitness for the place was apparent, and the only 
hesitancy upon the part of the Bishop in putting him there grew 
out of the fact that older men in the Conference, with larger fami- 
lies, needed the support which this Church was so well able to give. 
But the care of the work was the first claim upon the appointing 
power, and the noble men of the Texas Conference cheerfully acqui- 
esced. He hastened to his charge, reconsecrated himself to God, 
and entered upon his Avork. His character as a man and his effi- 
ciency as a preacher had preceded him to Houston. The people 
were eager to hear him, and a full house greeted him on the first day 
that he entered his pulpit. He began as he could hold — preached 
the gospel, and preached it in its pungency and power. There were, 
to0| a richness of expression and a grace in delivery that made his 
utterances attractive to young and old. It was at once perceived 
that the appointment Avas a fortunate one for Houston, and that a 
new epoch Avas about to occur in the progress of Methodism in the 
city. All classes of the people heard the neAV preacher, and the im- 
pression in his favor was well-nigh universal. In his discourses 



20 A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 

there was "strong meat" for those advanced in Christian life, and 
"the sincere milk of the word" for babes in Christ. In the religious 
knowledge presented, in the spirit of consecration that pervaded 
every discourse, in the deep piety that marked the life of the preach- 
er, and in the apt illustrations and sweet tones of voice with which 
the truth was presented, there was something — and something good 
— for every man, woman, and child in the congregation. He was 
now rapidly becoming "a well-instructed scribe," was "bringing 
forth out of his treasury things new and old," and was "giving to 
each hearer his portion in due season." His Church bloomed like 
a garden, the first people in the city attended his ministry, the 
press teemed with complimentary notices of the pith and power of 
his discourses, and "seals to his ministry" and "souls for his hire" 
were frequent occurrences. It is seldom, indeed, that the occupant 
of any modern pulpit, in the very morning of his clerical life, has 
displayed so much power and grace. If he had possessed none of 
the attributes of oratory, the thought and earnestness in his sermons 
would have made him no ordinary preacher; and in the absence of 
learning and profundity, the graces of his style and his manner of 
delivery would have made him the idol of the populace and a pow- 
er in the Church. If his taste had been less cultivated, his vocabu- 
lary less rich, his memory not so exact, and his oratory less attract- 
ive, he would have been a greater preacher in the estimation of some. 
Though still so young— being only twenty-five years of age when he 
went to Houston — all the elements of future greatness began to ap- 
pear in his life and ministry. He had both scholarship and genius, 
and yet he studied and worked as though his only resources were to 
come from incessant toil and energy. His popularity did not hurt 
him. While he highly esteemed the good opinion of the wise, pure, 
and great, the compliments of the heedless multitude did not affect 
him. He had, however, great respect for the simple, honest, truth- 
ful, laborious masses of the people, and in most instances, and in 
nearly every form of life — social, civil, and ecclesiastical — he es- 
teemed them as good as their leaders. They are the source of pow- 
er in all free and well-regulated governments, and when intelligent, 
conscientious, and pure, they check the tide of personal ambition 
and selfishness; they encourage purity and moral worth, and in all 
the forms of human government, whether civil or ecclesiastical, it is 
their hand that wields the sword, and their voice should confer the 
scepter. 



A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 21 

Mr. Nabors was now recognized as a man, and felt that the time 
had come when he could with propriety lead to the altar the woman 
whom he had chosen as the companion of his life, who had accepted 
his suit and agreed to share with him the joys and sorrows of an 
earthly existence. Accordingly, he was married while on a visit to 
kindred and friends in Alabama. The simple story of this joyful 
event is told by the Montgomery Advertiser : "Married — On the tenth 
day of October, 1876, by the Kev. Dr. A. S. Andrews, Rev. K. T. 
Nabors, of Houston, Texas, to Miss M. Lizzie Andrews, daughter of 
the officiating clergyman." 

His heart was now full of joy, his life gilded with hope, and a 
long, bright career of usefulness loomed up before him. The Hous- 
ton press speaks thus of his return to his charge: " We mentioned 
in our last issue the return of the Rev. R. T. Nabors. ... On Sun- 
day the distinguished young minister again occupied his pulpit. He 
was welcomed home by his entire congregation, male and female, 
young and old. He entered the church during the Sunday-school, 
and there was one continuous round of hand-slmking for the space 
of thirty minutes. The many expressions of pleasure at his return 
must have been gratifying to Mr. Nabors." 

About this time many of his best sermons and lectures were 
written and delivered, and numerous calls were made upon him 
to fill the pulpit and to occupy the rostrum on special occasions. 
He delivered a lecture in the interest of the music fund of Shearn 
Church, of which the Houston Telegram speaks as follows: "The 
lecture of Mr. Nabors was well attended last night. "We have 
heard this eloquent divine upon a number of occasions since his res- 
idence in this city, but we must confess that his effort of last evening 
upon the 'Unity of Truth' surprised even his most sanguine friends. 
Such words of burning eloquence, such flights of thought, and such 
beauties of speech it has seldom been our good fortune to hear." 

A dear friend and member of his congregation, writing of him as 
he appeared about this time, says: "The character of Mr. Nabors 
was one of rare symmetry. I have seen him when in the shadow 
of sorrow and the brightness of happiness, when elated by triumph 
and oppressed by defeat, when censured and wronged, when com- 
mended and applauded, in the vigor of health, in the agony of dis- 
ease — and in every position found him filling to completeness the 
most perfect model of a pure, lofty, noble manhood. As a minister, 
he was honest, earnest, and faithful; too generous to be jealous, too 



22 A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 

great to be little. He never sought to elevate himself upon the ruin 
of another. He would not have planted his foot upon the prostrate 
form of his humblest co-worker for all earthly honors. Endowed 
with a brilliant mind highly trained and cultivated, he grasped and 
mastered every thing that could make him more efficient. He had 
pride without vanity, courage without bravado, charity without 
weakness, piety without fanaticism, and purity without effeminacy. 
As a gentleman he was a finished model; and, although young in 
years, his attainments had won him high rank and pointed to higher 
altitudes as a near probability. He was not only one of the best 
and purest of men, but also one of the foremost pulpit orators of the 
South. I have seen his face transfigured in the passion of eloquence. 
His ringing voice, his earnest and vehement manner, his bold, ag- 
gressive style; his strong, clear, logical reasoning; his exalted and 
eloquent declamation; his self-reliant and confident assertion of his 
■7iews; his faith, pure as sunlight, looking beyond the clouds of time 
to the hill-tops of eternity — all combined to make him one of the 
most powerful and impressive speakers of his time." 

He preached a sermon before the Young Men's Christian Associ- 
ation of Georgetown, Texas, the seat of the Southwestern Univer- 
sity, at the commencement of 1878, of which the town paper speaks 
in words of high commendation: ''Rev. R. T. Nabors, of Houston, 
preached at night. We would do great injustice to this striking and 
very eloquent discourse by attempting any abbreviated synopsis. 
His text was a portion of the dying charge of David to Solomon — 
2 Kings i. 2 — 'Show thyself a man.' For something over an hour 
this gifted young minister held the crowded auditorium deeply in- 
terested while he set forth the elements of a true manhood. If our 
commencements furnished only one such occasion of entertainment 
and instruction, our community would be amply repaid." 

But just as life was opening up warm and bright around him, and 
when every prospect was pleasing to him and gratifying to his 
friends, suddenly a shadow fell upon his life. Ministerial sore- 
throat set in, and now and then drops of blood exuded from his vo- 
cal organs. The drafts upon him had been too great. For six 
weeks he had preached almost day and night in Houston, and when 
his meeting there had closed he was called abroad to aid others, un- 
til tired nature gave the alarm and made the startling announce- 
ment that he had already gone too far. Care, medical skill, and 
rest during his usual summer vacation so refreshed and relieved him 



A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 23 

that he returned to his charge in October, and commenced his work 
with his ordinary earnestness and vigor. Notwithstanding his im- 
proved condition, however, he feared the future; and when his term 
of service had closed in Houston, he felt that he needed an easy work 
in a more bracing climate. In the hope of giving him the relief 
that his case required, he was transferred by Bishop McTyeire to 
the Xorth Alabama Conference, and stationed at Tuscaloosa. This 
change of base was a great trial to Mr. Nabors. He loved Texas. 
The country was large, variegated, fresh, and rich; the people were 
kind, intelligent, industrious, enterprising, and remarkable for their 
energy, pluck, and push, while the preachers of the Texas Confer- 
ence were warm-hearted, hospitable, and true. The country suited 
him, the people had won his heart, in the providence of God his lot 
had been cast among them, and the purpose of his soul Avas to live, 
lalor, and die in their midst, and to awake on the resurrection morn 
f-ur.ounded by his old friends and ministerial comrades. Hence, he 
took leave of Texas with a heavy heart, and bade adieu to his friends 
with tearful eyes. He had spent in the " Lone Star State" more than 
six years of his life; had spent them there in the plastic period of 
his young manhood, when lasting impressions are made, when the 
basis of character is laid, and when principles are imbibed that 
shape and mold human destiny. To dig up a young, vigorous tree 
just as it is well rooted, when its trunk is rising higher and its 
green, leafy branches are spreading wider and wider daily, is a haz- 
ardous process, and must be executed with care, or the worst results 
will ensue. Mr. Nabors felt these truths. He was leaving stanch 
friends behind him, such as had been tried and trusted, and was 
now to begin life anew among preachers who had not asked for his 
transfer. He was, too, to take his place among these not in their 
interest but in search of health. These circumstances deeply de- 
pressed him. But Alabama was his native State, the climate was 
congenial, he knew the people, and felt sure that when the facts in 
his case and the motives that caused his transfer should be known, 
the members of the North Alabama Conference would tender him a 
hearty welcome. 

He reached Tuscaloosa on Friday, January 1, 1880. He was met 
at the depot, and received a hearty and enthusiastic welcome at the 
parsonage. The new scenes and bright, cheerful faces around him 
revived and refreshed the drooping spirit of the tired itinerant, and 
he was soon himself again, and entered heartily upon his work. 



24 A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 

There were many things in Tuscaloosa that were agreeable to him, 
and he found friends there upon whose arms and counsel he loved to 
lean. The place was attractive, the atmosphere was balmy and 
bracing, and many of the people were cultured and hospitable. 
Tuscaloosa was once the capital of Alabama, is still the seat of the 
university of the State, and has long been famous for its culture and 
refinement. Quite a number of the faculty of the institution and 
their families were members of Mr. Nabors's congregation, and he 
found among them congenial associations. 

The winter soon passed away, and when the spring opened his 
health had greatly improved. As the warm life-blood pulsated 
afresh in his system and went tingling throughout all the members 
of his body, his cheeks colored, his step grew elastic and firm, his 
eye kindled, and his voice again gathered all of its wonted compass, 
sweetness, and power. Life was once more full of hope and prom- 
ise. He thanked God, took courage, and redoubled his diligence in 
his Master's cause. With his increase of vigor his thirst for knowl- 
edge grew afresh, and he read and studied as he had seldom done 
before. He loved books, lived with their authors, learned their hab- 
its and tastes, imbibed their sentiments, and grew familiar with their 
style and manner, until they became companions in his study and 
friends of his life. The world of mind became larger and brighter 
to him, and from its countless stores he was now rapidly gathering 
resources that seemed to be not only rich but exhaustless. He was 
a beautiful example of ministerial fidelity, his life a model for all 
young preachers, and his desire to know the truth was equaled only 
by his readiness to do good as far as possible to the bodies and souls 
of men. The results of his study and the use of his pen were seen 
in his weekly ministrations to his people, in his contributions to the 
press of his Church, and in his special discourses, written and deliv- 
ered in the interest of the great factors of Methodism and Christian 
civilization. He lived up to the Wesleyan standard of energy and in- 
dustry: "Never be unemployed; never be trifiingly employed." He 
was singularly winning in manner, and such w T as the charm of his 
disposition that he took fast hold upon the hearts of his people, while 
the members of the North Alabama Conference loved and honored 
him as "a good man, full of faith and the Holy Ghost." And yet 
nowhere did the loveliness of his character shine forth in all its full- 
ness to such an extent as within the sacred precincts of his own 
home. Here he was indeed a model of tenderness and affection. 



A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 25 

At this time the Southern University, his alma mater, was with- 
out a president, and there was danger lest the strong light which 
had so long flamed within its halls and lecture-rooms should go out, 
and leave the Methodists of Alabama in total darkness in reference 
to the Christian education of their sons. At this juncture the trust- 
ees of the institution turned their eyes to Mr. Nabors as a suitable 
man for the presidency. His culture and piety, his influence with 
the preachers, and his power with the people would have been in his 
favor, while his force in the pulpit and his eloquence on the rostrum 
would have made him a most eligible man for so commanding and 
responsible a place. Other positions of trust and honor were ten- 
dered him, with less risk and larger remuneration; but he steadily 
resisted every offer, and adhered to his fixed and original purpose 
to devote his life exclusively to the wcrk of the Christian ministry. 
A few quotations from the press of the State will show the high es- 
teem in which he was held while in Tuscaloosa. At the commence- 
ment of 'the Southern University in 1880 he delivered the alnmni 
address, of which the Greensboro Watchman speaks as follows: "The 
address before the society of the alumni was delivered by Kev. R. 
T. Nabors, of Tuscaloosa, Ala. Those who have once heard this 
silver-tongued orator need not be told that he delighted the audi- 
ence. Discussing the claims that society has upon each of its indi- 
vidual members, he combined argument with illustration and fact 
with figure in a glorious texture of beauty and eloquence." 

In June of the same year he preached the commencement-sermon 
at the Alabama Conference Female College, presided over by Dr. 
John Massey, his old preceptor. The Montgomery Advertiser says of 
this discourse: "The text, from Mark vii. 37, 38, furnished a theme 
which will be fresh as long as the human heart feels and trembles; 
for it tells of the immaculate love of Mary. Unique in its treat- 
ment, -the sermon was adapted especially for those for whom it was 
designated — the pupils of the institution; and the glowing cheek 
and kindling eye bespoke for them the deep interest that they could 
not but feel while listening to the spiritual truths driven home with 
unerring aim by the eloquence of the orator. It was interesting to 
observe the lambent light of inward satisfaction that played upon the 
calm, collected features of Dr. Massey during the discourse. Thir- 
teen years ago, in a two-story brick building in honored old Sum- 
merfield, a faithful teacher was listening to the crude speech of a 
young school-boy. That teacher and pupil were face to face once 



26 A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 

more, but under circumstances how different! The one a teacher 
still in its noblest sense, but grown ripe in the honors and dignities 
of his office; the other the orator of the occasion, emerged from the 
chrysalis state into the splendid light of a full-fledged and glorious 
manhood." 

In the summer of 1882 he delivered the annual address before the 
students of the Huntsville Female College, presided over by the 
Rev. Dr. A. B. Jones. Of this discourse the Huntsville paper 
speaks as follows: "It is certainly the opinion of every one who 
heard it that in the annual oration at the college by the Rev. R. T. 
Nalors on Tuesday the man and the occasion met. His address was 
simply a masterpiece, full of scholarly thought, abounding in truest 
eloquence, and delivered in an easy, graceful, and attractive manner. 
X\ T e congratulate the college management upon so fortunate a selection 
of a speaker, and we hope that although he now occupies the pul- 
1 it of the Methodist Church at Tuscaloosa, it may one day be the 
good fortune of the people of Huntsville to have him stationed 
h2re." 

In September, 1S83, before his term of service had expired in 
Tuscaloosa, he was elected chaplain of the Vanderbilt University. 
This call was unexpected, and caused him much anxiety. When 
once more in Alabama, among his old friends and in improved 
health, lis purpose was to remain here. He had from necessity torn 
himself away from Texas, was now thirty-three years old, and felt 
that the time had come when he should identify himself perma- 
nently with some place and people. Besides, the North Alabama 
Conference had for him many attractions. The climate was good, 
the people were in a state of rapid development, and the resources 
of the country almost without parallel upon the American conti- 
nent. The field was an inviting one, and previous to the reception 
of this new call he had deemed his earthly destiny fixed. He had 
n > idea of change, and desired none. His attachments were grow- 
ing stronger almost daily, the opportunities for usefulness were im- 
mense, and there appeared to him no more direct and inviting road 
to the heavenly Canaan than through the North Alabama Confer- 
ence. But there was one secret fear that gnawed like a worm at 
the vitals of his being, and any thing that seemed to remove him 
farther away from it was eagerly looked at and examined. He 
feared that his throat trouble might return, and render it impossible 
fur him to continue his ministry. He loved to preach, gloried in 



A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 27 

his work, and wished to live to finish his God-given task. As the 
climate of North Alabama had been of such benefit to him, he 
deemed it probable that the still cooler, and, as he supposed, more 
bracing region of Tennessee would finish the work so auspiciously be- 
gun, and save him at once from all future anxiety. This hope was 
the chief inducement to any further change. It is true that the 
associations of a great university had their fascination for him., and 
that the facilities for enlarged and accurate culture would be inval- 
uable to a young minister. The opportunities, too, for usefulness 
would be incalculable. Every means would be afforded him fur 
planting the seeds of truth and salvation in the minds and hearts of 
hundreds of scholarly young men. The scions of doubt and infidel- 
ity might be nipped in the bud, and a race of educated, Christian 
men might be reared by teachers and preacher that would ulti- 
mately change the whole face of society. From this luminous edu- 
cational center he might aid in sending out streams of light that 
might radiate through the whole Church. He was alive and awake 
to all those possibilities. Ordinarily Mr. Nabors made up his mind 
speedily and carried out his decisions promptly; but he hesitated 
long and anxiously in this case. But finally he accepted. 

On the eighth day of October, 1883, he reached Nashville, Term., 
the seat of the Vanderbilt University, in his usual health and cheer- 
fulness. He felt the importance of hi3 position and the weight of 
responsibility that rested upon him as he looked upon his double 
charge, composed of "some five hundred students in the halls of the 
university and three hundred members of an organized Church, with 
their family tributaries." His reception was warm and hearty, and 
he preached his first sermon in his usual health. While he had not 
felt stronger for a number of years, he did not speak with all of his 
accustomed ease and freedom. He knew where he was, had made 
ample preparation for the day's work, knew that God was with him, 
but felt an indefinable solicitude in reference to the future. On tire 
next day he was busy about the arrangement of the tidy little home 
selected for him by the kindness of Bishop McTyeire, and while 
crossing a fence in the yard a tile broke with him, and his right-leg 
was bruised by the fall. This seemingly slight accident was the be- 
ginning of unutterable sorrows, and spread over him a cloud to be 
succeeded by the pall of death. His last really bright day had come 
and gone forever. The coagulated blood that settled under the lac- 
erated skin had no outlet except by means of suppuration. The 



28 A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 



wound soon became erysipeloids in its character, blood-poisoning en- 
sued, and his whole system became involved. For six long weeks 
he was confined to his house, and during much of the time to his 
room. It was his first experience in a serious protracted sickness. 
He had entertained his fears, had had his "days of darkness," had 
been in bed once or twice for a day or two at a time, but never until 
now had the hours of the day been tedious to him; nor had the 
lonely vigils of the night taught him the feelings of those who 
"watch for the morning." 

This was an unexpected and stunning bloWj and seemed to be lead- 
ing him along " a way that he knew not of." He had studied for 
God, lived for him, and preached for him, but now he was called 
upon to suffer for him; and there in his room or on his bed, with 
his inflamed limb raised to draw the blood from the infected part, 
he preached submission to God as sweetly, tenderly, and heroically as 
he had proclaimed the hopes of the gospel or announced the author- 
ity and majesty of the violated law. In the memory of those who 
saw him in this state^ the perfect picture of the patient sufferer still 
lives, and tells of the powers of grace in the hours of the greatest 
disappointment and woe, and of the joyful trust in God that makes 
the Christian's sick-room redolent with the fragrance of flowers that 
bloom in a spiritual paradise. 

One who saw him at this time writes: " My first visit to him was 
from the residence of Bishop McTyeire, who was the first one to 
advise me of the mechanical injury received by the new chaplain 
soon after his arrival in our midst. There, in the family-room of 
the Vanderbilt parsonage I met him, suffering though composed. 
Ours was a Methodist preachers' acquaintance, ready and hearty. 
He looked like a man of God. ... He had preached but one ser- 
mon in the chapel, and said to me of that effort: 'I was conscious 
throughout that there were many persons before me who knew a 
great deal more about the subject than I did.' But he was there to 
help on intellectual and spiritual development, and one of the broad- 
est types of this was found in himself, in the judgment of all. There 
was nothing narrow in him, and the absence of all jealousy, blended 
Avith his deferential bearing and unaffected modesty, everywhere 
challenged respect and invited friendship." 

Once during this long night of affliction he ventured out and 
preached; but engorgement of the affected limb ensued, and he was 
obliged to return to his room for two weeks longer. After this he 



A Biograjjhical Sketch of the Author. 29 

recuperated slowly, and by the middle of December was sufficiently 
recovered to go regularly to work. He did so with his usual energy 
and zest, doing all in his power both in the pulpit and in his visita- 
tions to repair any waste that had occurred during his protracted 
confinement. In the meantime, family afflictions interrupted his 
progress, and he often went to his work with a heavy heart. The 
critical condition of his wife and then the sickness of his children, 
who were attacked with measles, all added to his anxiety and helped 
to depress his spirits. It was a season of great trial, such as he had 
never known before, and was the harbinger of the night of death 
that was preparing to fold him in its icy arms and drape his home 
in darkness. Still he resisted all approach of gloom, trusted in God, 
was full of cheerfulness and hope. He filled his appointments as 
regularly as he could, drew his people to him, showed himself to be 
an accomplished workman, and preached and lived as in his Mas- 
ter's sight. Only those who knew him well, and had seen and heard 
him in his brightest days and happiest moods, perceived that he was 
not fully himself. Still, he never twanged his elastic bow in vain, 
and the arrows of truth flew thick and fast from the quivering 
string. His aim was accurate, and many a bleeding heart attested 
the archer's skill. 

On the fourteenth day of January the congestion of the throat re- 
turned. This was the first time that such an attack had occurred dur- 
ing the winter; the few attacks that preceded it had taken place in hot. 
weather, and after much fatigue. But the congestion suddenly deep- 
ened in his throat, and the bleeding was more frequent than ever 
before. He feared that the climate was unfriendly to him, consulted 
Bishop McTyeire in reference to his condition, and followed the best 
medical advice within his reach. He now began to live in dread, 
though still cheerful and mingling as usual with his friends and 
people. The winter was very rigorous; he was extremely sensitive 
to cold, and shrunk from exposure with almost womanly timidity. 
His friends came to his aid, and evinced a sympathy and a tenderness 
for him that were beautiful to behold. Strong men and lovely 
women vied with each other in thoughtful, delicate attentions. Not- 
able among these were Bishop McTyeire and his family. Though 
burdened with " the care of all the churches," the Bishop found time 
and opportunity for numerous kindnesses. His old friends, Dr. Will- 
iam J. Vaughn and his lovely wife, were all to him that brother and 
sister could have been. And, in fact, all the officers of the univer. 



30 A Biographical /Sketch of the Author. 

sity and their families manifested their sympathies in a most tender 
and touching manner. The people of the West End, too, were not 
a whit behind those just named, while the students behaved toward 
him constantly as younger brothers who not only honored and loved 
him but felt a pride and pleasure in the tender, sweet, and holy re- 
lationship that bound them together. 

He preached his last sermon on Sunday, the sixteenth of March, 
from the text, " What shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole 
world and lose his own soul?" That discourse was a fit close to his 
short and brilliant career as a Christian minister. All the spirit, 
tenderness, authority, and power of the gospel were in it. He u de- 
livered his soul." In the flowing periods and burning passages of 
that discourse he stood full-orbed before his people; and when the 
tender tones of his voice ceased as he finished his peroration, his 
ministerial sun had set forever. During the following week he 
wrote his last sermon, the one on "Special Providence," which ap- 
peared after his death in the Christian Advocate, and by request is 
republished in this volume. The composition of this discourse was 
interrupted by the bleeding of his throat. He little knew that he 
was liOi'.ding his pen for the last time, or that he was virtually writ- 
ing his own funeral-sermon. The intellectual and moral battery 
that had so long been accustomed to vent its ethereal fires through 
those white, slender fingers and that flexible pen was to be charged 
no more in this world. 

On the morning of the twenty-fourth day of March he arose from 
his bed with an uneasy feeling in his throat, and in a few moments 
he was attacked with severe hemorrhage. The bleeding was pro- 
fuse, and when it ceased he was tremulous and weak. In the even- 
ing the hemorrhage was renewed with increased violence. At six 
o'clock he took a chill; pneumonia ensued, and the fever that rose 
never ceased until cooled in the waters of death. He bore his sick- 
ness without a murmur, but with reluctance laid down at his Mas- 
ter's feet his commission to preach. He felt that his work was, not 
done, and longed to live that he might " finish it with joy." Sad- 
dened by the consciousness that he could never preach again, he 
said to his friend Mrs. Vaughn, as she sat by his bedside: "O what 
hopes are trailing in the dust to-day! Paul had his thorn in 
the flesh, but still he could continue to preach." But erelong it 
became evident that he must not only desist from his chosen avo- 
cation, but "cease at once to work and live." And when the final 



A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 31 

hour came this struggle was over, and his soul sweetly rested in 
God. 

On Friday afternoon, after a quiet sleep of half an hour — the first 
that he had had during his sickness — he awoke, and turning his eyes 
with heavenly radiance toward his wife, he said: "What a refresh- 
ing little nap I have had ! and O thai dream, that vision, that sweet 
music! I was in paradise for a little while." On Saturday night, 
after a day of great suffering, realizing that his strength was failing 
and that his end was near, he said: "It is useless to keep up this 
contest any longer. If the tide must go out, it may as well go to- 
night." Then he added : " I hope that you will have no apprehensions 
about me." He rallied slightly on Sunday, but grew worse again, 
and on Tuesday, April the first, at one o'clock, he breathed his last, 
and the curtain fell upon the last scene of a radiant, pure, and beau- 
tiful life. 

His friend Dr. O. P. Fitzgerald gives the following account of 
his funeral and burial, in the Advocate of April 5: " Eev. R. T. Na- 
bors, chaplain of Vanderbilt University, died of pneumonia on 
Tuesday, April the first, and was buried on the afternoon of Wed- 
nesday, April second. The chapel was filled with a sorrowing con- 
gregation. The pulpit was draped in mourning, and the floral trib- 
utes were abundant and beautiful. Short addresses on the life and 
character of the deceased brother were made by Bishops McTyeire 
and Granbery and by Drs. Fitzgerald and McFerrin. Bishop Wil- 
son, Dr. Mood, of Texas, and the Rev. J. P. McFerrin, of Elm 
Street Church, Nashville, took part in the exercises. The body was 
laid to rest in the Vanderbilt burying-ground — the first — amid man- 
ifestations of profound feeling on the part of the large concourse 
that were present. If we were to give full expression to our esti- 
mate of our departed brother, our words might seem extravagant 
to those who knew him not as we did. A man of finer tone we 
never knew. He was pure gold, solid and burnished. He won 
friends at the first, and held thera with constantly increasing attrac- 
tion to the last. From our human stand-point, it seems to us that 
he died too soon — he was only thirty-three years old — for how bright 
the light that is quenched! how potent the ministry we have lost! 
how gracious the influence we shall miss! how deep the sorrow we 
shall feel so keenly and so long! Did we say that he died too 
young? He died early, but he lived long enough to develop a 
Christian character of exquisite symmetry and beauty; long enough 



32 A Biographical Sketch of the Author. 



to impress his influence upon a large and rapidly widening circle of 
admiring and affectionate friends; long enough to attain a pulpit 
excellence ra*rely equaled ; long enough to leave a name that, in the 
circle of those who knew him as he was, will be linked with those 
of Summerfield and Cookman. Like them, he died young, and like 
them he will be enshrined in the hearts of many, from whose minds 
his image will not vanish. 'His eternal summer shall not fade.' 
He lived long enough to present a true model of a minister of Jesus 
Christ for the young men of the Biblical Department of the Van- 
derbilt University, to whom his last services were given. He lived 
long enough to make a record that will give inspiration to many 
lives. He lived to finish the work his Lord had given him to do, 
and was then called up to ampler life and higher ministries in the 
world of spirits. Many hearts bleed for this gifted and lovable min- 
ister. Gray heads bow in grief for him, and the faces of little chil- 
dren are wet with tears. We all have cause to weep, for we mourn 
a Christian of the loftiest type; a preacher whose sermons were as 
perfect in form as they were vigorous in thought and fragrant with 
the odors of paradise; a friend who had all the qualities that make 
earthly friendships dear, and that will make heavenly fellowship 
sweet. The tender sympathies of the Church will be given to the 
bereaved wife and three little children left fatherless, and to all that 
inner circle smitten with this great sorrow." 



SERMONS, 



The Christian Life, 



"I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but 
Christ liveth in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live 
by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for 
me." (Galatians ii. 20.) 

THIS text contains a very striking paradox. The apostle 
speaks of being dead and alive at the same time. With 
the first stroke of his pen he writes, " I am crucified with 
Christ;" but he immediately adds, " nevertheless I live;" 
and then, as though he had not quite defined his own idea, 
he says, " Yet not I, but Christ liveth in me." In order to 
understand this play of thought and expression, we must 
recall Paul's favorite method of presenting man under the 
influence of God's grace. Astronomers tell us that they 
have descried in far-distant spaces double stars, which may 
be suns about which other planets revolve, or which may 
be satellites in systems whose suns are yet undiscovered; 
but these binary stars are visible only through the lenses of 
the telescope. To the natural eye gazing into the firma- 
ment of blue there is only a single point of light. So the 
apostle Paul, looking at human nature through the lens of 
the gospel, saw that it was binary — that there were two 
men in one man. There is the carnal nature — "the old 
man," as he calls it — representing the principle of evil; and 
there is the spiritual nature — the new man — representing 
3 (33) 



34 The Christian Life. 



the principle of good. Now, he says that it is impossible 
to live under the supremacy of both of these natures at one 
and the same time, because they are mutually antagonistic 
and destructive. We cannot bow before Belial and say, 
"This be my God," and at the same time kneel at God's 
altar and exclaim, " The Lord, he is God ! " We must either 
be dead to sin and alive to God or alive to sin and dead to 
God. 

You all know that the Bible represents the wicked man 
as being dead — "dead in trespasses and sins"^ — but cer- 
tainly this death is consistent with a strong principle of life. 
Speaking of a worldling, Paul says, "She that liveth in 
pleasure is dead while she liveth." This sounds contradic- 
tory, but we all understand his meaning. We know that 
he refers to carnal life and spiritual death. While there is 
life in the pleasure-loving heart no pulse of it beats for God 
and purity. The bewitching charm of the world's enchant- 
ment has paralyzed every desire for Christ and heaven. 
You may carry in your bosom the grave of a spiritual life, 
and erect upon it the gaudy palace of sinful pleasure; or 
you may bury the carnal nature deep within, and rear upon 
its ashes the imposing temple of a spiritual and indestruct- 
ible life. Indeed, you must do the one or the other. While 
it is true, therefore, that the sinner is dead while he lives, 
it is equally true that the Christian is a dead man. He is 
"crucified with Christ." 

1. Let us see what this means. 

There are three senses in which the Christian is repre- 
sented as dead. 

(a) Paul says, "I am dead unto the law." What law? 
Surely not the moral law. This law is based upon man's 
relations to God. It is binding as long as these relations 
exist unchanged. These relations cannot be changed with- 
out a change in God. But God cannot change; therefore 



The Christian Life. 35 

the obligations of the moral law are eternal. He has ref- 
erence, no doubt, to the burdens and requirements of the 
Levitical law, which were abrogated by the death of 
Christ; or, he may mean that he is dead to the law consid- 
ered as a means of justification. 

(6) Dead unto sin. " Likewise reckon ye also yourselves 
to be dead unto sin." By this he means that the principle 
of sin within him has been conquered and destroyed. Just 
as there is no response from a dead man, however strong the 
appeal, so Paul says his soul makes no response to the se- 
ductions and temptations of sin. How impressively does he 
express this thought! " Our old man is crucified with him." 
Just as Christ was nailed to the cross and left there until 
his body was dead, so in every Christian heart, says Paul, 
there must be a Calvary, and on its summit a cross, and on 
this cross the old man of sin must be suspended until it is 
dead. Pride must be nailed there — lust, appetite, passion, 
envy, hate, malice, and selfishness; and from their very 
vitals the life-blood must flow until they are dead. Q what 
a gory picture is this which God and angels witness in the 
Christian's death to sin! 

(c) A Christian is also dead to the world. You will re. 
member that in this Epistle to the Galatians, from which my 
text is taken, the apostle says: "God forbid that I should 
glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom 
the w T orld is crucified unto me, and I unto the world." He 
is dead to the world's pomp and pageantry and applause, 
unmoved by its smiles and unawed by its frowns; dead to 
its ambitions and false shames; dead to its riches, because 
his treasures are in heaven; dead to its gratifications, for 
his "flesh is crucified, with its affections and lusts." From 
these considerations, it appears that the deadest man in this 
universe is the one whom the Bible represents as most alive. 

2. The peculiar way in which Paul speaks of this death 



3G The Christian Life. 

reveals to us the torture of the process — "crucified with 
Christ." Death itself is a painless state, but dying is often 
terrible. After the crucifixion the suffering is over, but 
crucifixion is charged with agony. The figure here is 
Christ's crucifixion. How excruciating it was! The driv- 
ing of the nails into the quivering flesh, the awful strain of 
the body supporting itself by the torn hands and feet, the 
pierced and bleeding side, the vehement thirst — what 
physical anguish he must have endured! But Paul says it 
has its counterpart in the crucifixion of the human soul to 
the world and the flesh. It is no e* ! "< r matter to sacrifice 
the carnal nature; to fasten it upon the cross and surren- 
der ourselves unto God. But it must be done. Each sin 
must be pierced through and through. " Ye are dead to 
siu," says the apostle. Thunders may roll over a dead man 
and bellow in his ears, but he hears not; lightnings may 
flash balls of lurid flame across his eyes, but he sees not; 
marshaled armies may tramp over his grave, and earth- 
quakes may strike and jar the rocky foundations of the 
mount in which he is buried, but he moves not. Thus must 
the Christian be utterly dead to sin, though in constant 
contact with it, though surrounded by it. 

" Well," some man will say, "if this be Christianity, then 
Christianity is death; it is a quenching of the vital flame, 
it is a coffining of the soul, it is an entombment of all life 
in the darkness of the grave." Paul seems to anticipate this 
objection when he adds, "Nevertheless I live." And yet 
he says : " I am too fast in that declaration. 1" do not live ; / 
am crucified ; but, what is far better, ' Christ liveth iu me ; 
and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith 
of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for 
me.'" 

This brings us, then, to the other side of this subject. We 
have been contemplating the Christian's death; let us now 



The Christian Life. S7 

look at the Christian life. This life begins where every 
thing else pertaining to our world ends: in death. As nat- 
ural death is the gate which leads to eternal joys above, so 
death to sin is the gate through which we pass to joys be- 
low. As natural death introduces us into God's kingdom 
in heaven, so carnal death initiates us into God's kingdom 
on earth. 

There is much superficial thinking on this subject. With 
very many the Christian life is simply an opinion about 
Christ, or an orthodox creed, or a happy state of the emo- 
tions. But the text gives us a much more fixed and defi- 
nite conception of its nature and importance. 

1. First of all, it tells us that the Christian life is a de- 
rived life; derived, as its name imports, from Christ — 
"Christ' liveth in me." Not a dead Christ, but a living 
Christ is the source of the Christian's life. Some people 
have an historic Christ; some have a governmental Christ, 
who sits clothed in majesty upon a throne high above the 
heavens. But when Paul says "Christ liveth in me," he 
does not mean that he lives in his creed, or in his views of 
history or government, but in him. He is the temple, and 
Christ the Lord worshiped ; he is the house, and Christ the 
guest; he is the throne, and Jesus the king. Hence the 
elements, the powers, the possibilities of the Christian life 
are not contained germinally within us. Herein it differs 
from a merely intellectual life. You might develop every 
capacity of* man to its utmost limit, and you would not 
touch the Christian life. Education, culture, thought, and 
environments may make what the world calls a great man ; 
a being who may read with ease the strange hieroglyph- 
ics in nature's book of life, who may open the doors of this 
vast cathedral — the visible universe — and without "priest 
or incense or chanting choir" worship at her altars; but he 
could not master the first letter in the alphabet of the ChrisT 



38 The Christian Life. 

tian life. This is a derived life. It flows into the soul from 
a divine source. Just as our natural life is derived from 
our parents through birth, so the Christian life is a concep- 
tion of the Holy Ghost upon human consciousness. Just 
as every being born into the world is in an important sense 
a new creation, so a Christian is a " new creature in Christ 
Jesus." He is not a new creation in the sense of something 
created which did not before exist, but a re-creation, which 
is greater. A part of the life of God is transmitted to the 
Christian, so that his soul wears God's features; just as the 
face of the parent may be seen in that of the child. 

2. But though the Christian life is a derived life, so far 
as its origin is in God, yet on our part it is a responsive life. 
On the one side it is a calling — the call of infinite love; on 
the other side it is a response — love responding to love. 
Paul brings out this idea in the concluding words of the 
text : " Who loved me, and gave himself for me." Al- 
mighty God says: " Son, give me thine heart," and the re- 
sponse is 

Here 's my heart, O take and seal it ! 
Seal it for thy courts above. 

There is no coercion in the Christian life ; it is purely 
voluntary. When God calls, we may respond or not. That 
is with us. And as there are children in this world who 
have no appreciation of parental love and sacrifices made 
in their behalf, so God has children who are ungrateful 
enough to withhold from him their hearts. God is love. 
What he wants is love, and the Christian life is simply hu- 
man love responding to divine love. 

3. The Christian life is also a spiritual life. It reverses 
the order of nature and of natural life and the relations of 
flesh and spirit. The unconverted man has a spirit, but it 
is carnalized. The play of his mighty intellectual powers, 
the daring flights of his imagination, the impulses of his 



The Christian Life. 39 



heart, are all controlled by motives that range far below 
the skies. His spirit is the servant of the flesh. The Chris- 
tian life reverses this state of things. Instead of a soul in 
bondage to the flesh, flesh and blood become subject to 
spirit. The devil is dethroned, and Jesus Christ is crowned 
king amid the acclamations of all the faculties. Love is 
the scepter which he wields; and with it he commands the 
perfect obedience of our threefold nature, and banishes all 
those ignoble conceptions of life that sin would make su- 
preme. The highest idea of life that thousands entertain is 
epicurism. Build magnificent houses to shelter the body, 
accumulate wealth to supply its wants, fill the larders with 
all that can tempt its appetite and the cellars with wine 
with which to quench its thirst, import from the looms of 
every latitude fabrics with which to clothe it; and then, 
amid its gorgeous and affluent surroundings, pamper and 
paint, cram and adorn it, O what ideas some of us have 
of life! Ideas that leave us but little above the horse as 
he feeds upon his clover, or the cattle that graze upon the 
green hill-sides. How Christ's words ought to ring in our 
ears! "A man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the 
things which he possesseth." No; a man's life is what he 
is, and a man's status before heaven is determined by what 
he is spiritually. When the voice of fashion drowns the 
voice of God, and the clink of the almighty dollar makes 
sweeter music than the name of Jesus, we may be living 
the lives of. animals, of epicures, but we are not living the 
Christian life. When Jesus Christ lives in us, we are full 
of purity, of holiness, of grace; and the consciousness of 
communion with him is dearer and more satisfying than all 
the concentrated joys of earth. 

4. Again, the Christian life is a strikingly novel life. 
There is nothing similar to it in the broad universe of God. 
"The life which I now live," says Paul, " I live by the faith 



40 The Christian Life. 

of the Son of God." It is a life of faith. Vegetable life 
is a life of necessity. It is bound in inexorable law. Flow- 
ers blossom because they must blossom. Trees grow be- 
cause they must grow. Animals do what they ought to do, 
but the motive-power is bliud instinct. They act, but know 
not why they act. Then there is angelic life; but angels 
live by sight — sight not in the sense of ocular vision, but 
in the sense of intuition. But the Christian life is not of 
necessity or instinct or intuition, but of faith. Faith wears 
upon her girdle the key that unlocks its entrance-door; faith 
apprehends its great designs; faith leads us amid its sub- 
lime mysteries; faith solves its problems, unveils its beau- 
ties, and achieves its victories. Where the scientist gropes 
in darkness and runs against adamantine walls, faith lets in 
a flood of light and scales all barriers. Where the philos- 
opher cannot climb with his reason, the Christian soars on 
wiugs of faith. "The humid eye of reason, gazing after 
faith in her sublime ascension toward the sun, is smitten 
with blindness by the 'splendors that surround her. She 
flashes lightnings from her eyes and drops thunderbolts 
from her talons upon the presumption of reason that dares 
to trace the circle of her vision or fix her heliocentric 
place." 

5. But the Christian life is also a grand life. There is 
something of grandeur in all life, and especially in intelli- 
gent, conscious life. An infant is the most weak and help- 
less of all God's creatures, and yet no man can look upon 
a little child with contempt or indifference. Those little 
eyes, just beginning to feed upon a mother's smiles, have 
behind their silken lashes a spark of fire that shall burn 
and blaze when yonder sun floats a mighty iceberg through 
space; those tiny fingers, that nestle amid the caresses of 
a mother's lips, may one clay wield a pen that shall sway 
the civilized world; that little form, almost as fragile as 



The Christian Life. 41 



the stem that suspends the modest violet, may one day be 
the signal of victories greater than Napoleon's ; that mind, 
now so dormant, may one day hold within its grasp the laws 
that bind all worlds into a complete and composite unity; 
that heart, now faintly responding to a mother's affection, 
may one day love like an archangel, or, misdirected, hate 
like the prince of devils. We stand awed before the poten- 
tialities of life wrapped up in the mystery of childhood; 
but when we behold life in a man, moving a crowned and 
sceptered king in the very midst of kings, the feeling of 
reverence grows upon us. What, then, must be the grand- 
eur of the Christian life, whose very beginnings transcend 
the culminations of all other life? Men who have visited 
the falls of Niagara have tried in vain to express their 
emotions' as they listened to its eternal thunder and gazed 
upon the spray as it rose and broke into a thousand rain- 
bows above their heads. They have stood in silent awe in 
the presence of nature's grandeur. But the apostle Paul, 
impelled by the momentum of the Christian life, pleading 
with supernatural oratory before worldly Felix, reasoning 
with the eloquence of a seraph before King Agrippa, thun- 
dering the doctrine of the resurrection from the Acropolis 
at Athens, dying under the stroke of Nero's ax, was a 
grander spectacle than ten thousand Niagaras. We may 
talk about the grandeur of storms at sea, of revolving 
worlds, of contending armies; but what are all these com- 
pared to such a man as Martin Luther, with the life of the 
Son of God burning in his thoughts, flaming in his words, 
and kindling a dead world into a spiritual conflagration? 
Yes; the Christian life is a grand life. The angelic may be 
a higher life, but it is not grander. Angels live in the bliss- 
ful serenity of original purity. The equipoise of their nat- 
ures has never been disturbed. There is no conflict within 
the empire of angelic life. Their victories are the victories 



42 The Christian Life, 



of peace. But the Christian life is born in the vortex of a 
spiritual war. It is itself an organized warfare, and its vic- 
tories are achieved at the point of the bayonet on the red 
field of carnage. A grand life is a life of grand aims, grand 
purposes, grand thoughts, and grand deeds; and where, in 
all the history of the universe, will you find a life that can 
challenge the Christian life in these constituent elements? 

6. A Christian man is the only man who can stand amid 
the myriad forms and teeming wonders of life on this globe 
and say, " I live." 

We gaze upon trees and flowers, and we say they have 
life, but they do not live. We look at animals, and we see 
that they also have life. They eat and sleep and breathe 
and walk, but they know nothing of the meaning of life — 
they cannot think; they cannot reason. And then we turn 
to man unconverted, and We observe that he too has life, 
and life that sometimes assumes superb forms of expression. 
But not until he shows signs of a Godward experience, not 
until the grand possibilities of his spiritual nature have 
been unfolded, can he know any thing of the majestic, the 
sublime life which enables the Christian man to exclaim, 
with a sweet yet lofty consciousness all his own, "I live!" 

7. This brings me, then, to the last element of the Chris- 
tian life, which also happens to be its culmination. It is 
an indestructible and eternal life. All else must die. The 
flowers that regale you with their sweetness this morning 
ere the sun has set will be buried in "nature's vast sepul- 
cher ; " the lips that thrill you to-day with their kisses of 
love will be faded and cold to-morrow; the great men 
who sweep like mighty comets across the sky of thought 
light it up but momentarily, and then are gone. Thus this 
whole universe of visible phenomena must pass away. But 
the Christian life is eternal ; it has no elements of decay 
within, and is invulnerable without. 



The Christian Life. 43 



I have a vision of a Christian man as he stands in the 
seething vortex of earthly disaster. I hear the winds of 
misfortune as they sweep and howl about his consecrated 
spirit. They dash from his lips the chalice of happiness, 
they wrench from his grasp the purchase of a life of toil ; 
but amid wrecked hopes and bankruptcy and ruin, I still 
hear the voice of faith in accents of victory : " Neverthe- 
less, I live!" I see him as the storm of affliction, laden 
with disease and freighted with pain, beats against him. 
His blood is chilled, he is covered with loathsomeness and 
convulsed with agony ; yet, high above moans of irrepress- 
ible anguish, above the noise and confusion of the tempest, 
I hear the psean of his unfaltering spirit: "Nevertheless, I 
live!" I see him again. The angel of death invades the 
sacred precincts of his home, and lays his cold and blight- 
ing fiugers upon the heart of his only child. When he 
leaves I see a vacant chair, I miss two bright eyes that 
filled the house with sunshine and a sweet little voice that 
made music for the home; I see parental hearts torn and 
bleeding. Yet out of the depths, though heaved forth in 
sobs, come the same words of triumph : " Nevertheless, I 
live! " But I see him once more. The waves of the dark 
river break at his own feet now. Pale and motionless he 
lies; the fire in his eyes has nickered and expired; his voice 
is hushed; his pulse no longer beats; his heart has ceased 
to throb; the blood is clotted and stagnant in his veins; the 
death-damp is on his brow. He is gone this time; he is 
dead. But look ! I did but dream ! I said the man was 
dead; heaven says a seraph is born. See him as he rises! 
Ten thousand angels uphold him as he flies; ten thousand 
glorified spirits watch him from the walls of jasper; and 
with the death-spray still upon his locks, he makes the air 
ring with the exultant shout: "Nevertheless, I live! " And 
with one more sweep of his new-found wmsrs, he enters the 



44 The Christian Life. 



grand metropolis of life. Heaven is crowded with life. 
Every stone in its translucent walls is instinct with life; its 
songs are songs of life; its inhabitants are clothed in gar- 
ments of life; its temple is lit with the light of life; its 
trees are laden with the fruits of life; and the river of 
liquid crystal that flows out of the throne of God and the 
Lamb is the river of water of life. 

"And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him 
that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. 
And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely." 



The Ideal Man, 



MY theme for the evening is " The Ideal Man ;" and that 
I may be perspicuous in its discussion, it is important 
that upon the threshold I differentiate the ideal from the 
actual. The idea], as its name imports, is that which has 
existence in an idea. It has no visible form that can be 
seen with these natural eyes, no outward embodiment that 
can be touched with these hands; it makes no audible 
sound that can be heard with these natural ears. Nev- 
ertheless, it hangs like a bright and beautiful star in the 
mind's firmament, illuminating the inner eye. It has a 
form that the soul can grasp with its spiritual fingers, and 
a voice sweet as a seraph's, that ever falls in musical ca- 
dences upon its exquisite tympanum. 

Ideals are simply conceptions embodying our highest 
ideas of attainable perfection. How they are formed in 
the mind, by what process they enthrone themselves, I can- 
not tell. They may be innate; they may be modeled from 
images without; they may be angel- whispers; they may be 
divine inspirations. This is a question no philosophy can 
answer. But that they are in us there can be no doubt. 
These ideals are always in advance of our real selves. Ev- 
ery man lives two lives — the one what he ought to be and 
is going to be; the other what he is. The one is the ideal, 
the other the actual. The ideal is constantly criticising the 
actual, and calling it to rise higher and be nobler. The 
actual always lives in the present, while the future is the 
home of the ideal, the banquet at which it feasts, the fount- 
ain at which it slakes its thirst. 

(45) 



46 The Ideal Man. 



These ideals are the world's masters. They take posses- 
sion of our first waking consciousness. Every child has its 
ideals, however infantile, vague, and indefinite they may 
be. They float through the school-boy's imagination as he 
reclines beneath the umbrageous oak on a summer's day. 
They mingle with the smoke of the student's lamp at mid- 
night's hour as he pours over the mystic page and dreams 
of future glory. They find homes in the hovels of the 
poor and in the palaces of the rich; amid the groveling 
thoughts of the ignorant and the grand arid towering con- 
ceptions of the learned. Each family has its ideal home, 
each city its ideal municipality, each profession its ideal 
standard, each school of thought its ideal j}hilosophy, each 
artist his ideal painting, each poet his ideal song, each na- 
tion its ideal government. 

All ideals, however, are not of equal value and impor- 
tance. Some are as empty as castles built in air; they are 
such stuff as dreams are made of. Some are the inherit- 
ance of a village or city, and some hang in the sky of a 
great country. Others shape the activities of a generation, 
and others still are the controlling genii of centuries. Some 
become incarnated in a great law that takes hold of an em- 
pire, and others become embodied in a grand poem or a 
masterpiece of art that sways its scepter over humanity. 

As individuals, families, cities, generations, nations, and 
centuries have their specific ideals, so the world has its ideal 
men. And we shall discover that as individual ideals are 
not the same at different periods of development, so the 
world's ideal of a man has not only been different in each 
successive age, but also variable as to power and influ- 
ence. 

If I look at the ideal man historically — and this is per- 
haps the most satisfactory method — I find that the earliest 
conception of him was the incarnation of physical strength. 



The Ideal Man, 47 



This conception originated on the Asiatic continent, the 
western part of which was the cradle of the human race — 
the grand center whence the different families of the earth 
began those migrations that were to end in the civilization 
of the world. Here, amid extended plains and lofty mount- 
ains, flowing rivers and gigantic forests, burning suns and 
scorching deserts, man was environed and overpowered by 
nature. Unconscious of his own freedom, conscious only 
of his own littleness, he lay on her bosom as a child in the 
arms of its mother. Every thing inspired him with a sense 
of the infinite. Physical power, boundless and measureless, 
was his one great, overwhelming thought. He heard it 
roar in the wild and fierce and sweeping tornado ; he felt 
its shock as the earth trembled under the mighty tread of 
the earthquake; he listened, pale and terror-stricken, to 
its voice thundering in the storm ; and he gazed upon its 
movements in the august procession of suns and systems 
across the firmament of night. So man gathered up all 
his grandest conceptions of power and made it his god, and 
named it Zeus, or Jupiter. This god of mythology was 
supposed to control the winds, and direct the thunderbolts, 
and guide the march of all physical forces. Hence their 
ideal conception of a man was one who approximated Jove in 
physical strength. Consequently, when one appeared among 
them who could, unaided, kill the Nemean lion, seize alive 
the Cretan bull, obtain the girdle of the Queen of the Am- 
azons, and bring up from hell the three-headed dog Cerbe- 
rus, he was considered a veritable son of Jupiter, and enti- 
tled to be apotheosized. The genius of Homer and the 
imagination of Hesiod reveled in their highest inspira- 
tions when describing heroes fashioned after the type of 
physical manhood. Listen to the description of Ajax, as 
handed down to us through the flowing numbers of the 



Iliad: 



48 The Ideal Man. 



Thus marched the chief, tremendous as a god. 
Grimly he smiled; earth trembled as he strode. 
His massy javelin quivering in his hand, 
He stood the bulwark of the Grecian land 

And of Achilles he says: 

Dreadful he stands, in front of all his host. 
Pale Troy beholds, and seems already lost. 
Her bravest, heroes pant with inward fear; 
And, trembling, see another god of war. 

These were the conceptions that embodied the world's 
highest ideal of a man during the period of mythology. 

But all this time "the thoughts of men are widening 
with the process of the suns." Through five different tele- 
phones, or channels, the material universe is constantly 
whispering her secrets into the ear of imperial reason; and 
man soon discovers that there is something else in nature, 
besides physical power. He finds that there is also knowl- 
edge — knowledge of the laws that govern this power; and 
he recognizes an affinity between his own mind and the in- 
tellectual secrets that lie occult in the great universe. As 
the consciousness of this relation becomes more and more 
apparent, there springs up within him a love of knowledge. 
He feels that it is his right; that it is the aliment of his 
intellect, the signet of royalty in his subordinate monarchy. 
It is the ocean along whose shores he may gather pebbles, 
upon whose bosom he may sail, and in whose crystal depths 
he may find richest gems of truth. So he begins not only 
to study nature, but also to study himself, his relations to 
nature, and the causes of all the phenomena appearing and 
disappearing around him. 

This point in the development of mind marks the pas- 
sage of man from the domain of mythology into the trace- 
able boundaries of the empire of history, the change first 
manifesting itself in the peninsula of Greece. There, on 



The Ideal Man. 49 



the shores of the iEgean and Ionian seas, breathing a pure 
and balmy atmosphere, beneath stars that rained down their 
large luster from southern skies, lived a class of men stu- 
dious and thoughtful. These very soon dispelled the illu- 
sions about gods charioteering in the sun, presiding in the 
mountain-tops, and rising out of the foam of the sea. They 
showed by the test of argument that this universe was not 
a battle-field on which gods and demi-gods fought their bat- 
tles, and kept the earth in commotion with rolling thunders, 
volcanic fires, and earthquake rumblings, but a grand uni- 
versity full of text-books for the earnest student. 

Thus the physical giant was reduced to a pigmy among 
the forces of the world, and the philosopher became the 
ideal man. This was a tremendous step upward in the 
progress of the world, and constituted the great inspiring- 
power of the splendid civilization of Greece. 

Old Thales, the father of philosophy, who first taught 
the Egyptians how to measure the height of the pyramids, 
was perhaps the first also to turn the world, in its idea of 
a man, from a contemplation of the physical to the mental. 
Associated, with him were other great names that will be 
handed down to all future ages. Very soon Socrates, Plato, 
and Aristotle came to the front. The human race no 
longer sought for the ideal man on Mt. Olympus or in 
Trojan wars; but they looked for him amid the splendid 
surroundings of the lyceum, in the beautiful and dreamy 
grounds of the academy, in the intellectual atmosphere of 
"the painted porch," and in the dark olive-groves from 
whose depths the nightingale still pours forth her sweet 
and rapturous song. They may not have found him there, 
but they found men there— men whose gigantic intellects 
and august thoughts have not been surpassed by succeed- 
ing generations. 

But in the study of nature and of men in the correla- 
4 



50 The Ideal Man. 



tion of the laws of the one with the faculties of the other, 
it was discovered that there was something else in this 
grand system of created things besides atoms and molecules, 
laws and physical forces. Man perceived that the human 
mind did not exhaust its powers in the mere cognition of 
relations and correlations, but that it was susceptible of a 
new class of experiences. When he gazed upon the sur- 
face of the earth, carpeted with emerald and bedecked with 
flowers; when he looked upon forms the noblest and loveli- 
est, and upon colors the most gorgeous and the most deli- 
cate; when he inhaled odors the most fragrant, and listened 
to harmonies the most soothing and entrancing — a new de- 
partment of his complex nature awoke to throbbing life 
and being. The sunny glories of the day, the pale Elysian 
grace of moonlight, the crystal lake, the towering mount- 
ain, the boundless ocean, whispering their beautiful secrets, 
told man he had an cesthetic nature. A new direction was 
thus given to thought, which began to express itself in 
music, poetry, sculpture, and architecture. Not that poets 
and artists had been unborn or unknown up to this time, 
but that they had not been given places of any prominence. 
But at last human genius, moved with a divine afflatus, 
burst the cerements in which it had been entombed, and be- 
gan to soar and sing, to chisel and build. The conception 
of the ideal man now focalized upon him who stood as the 
highest exponent of aesthetic culture. 

But forces were at work which were destined to change 
again the opinion of the world as to what constituted a 
man. This time he was to possess all that was admirable 
in preceding ideals, and in addition thereto still another 
attribute. Not only bodily strength, intellectual force, and 
aesthetic culture, but, superinduced upon these, regal majesty 
— that power which commands men as Hercules command- 
ed muscle, and Plato thought, and Phidias artistic taste. 



The Ideal Man. 51 



This ideal was born in the conquest of Rome over Greece, 
and was symbolized by the name of Caesar. The philoso- 
pher, the statesman, the orator, and the warrior all united 
in the ideal Roman. To occupy that throne which was 
canopied by the s )ft azure sky of Italy dnd washed by the 
mystic and dreamy waters of the Tiber, and to wield that 
scepter which swayed the nations of the civilized world, 
was to reach the very loftiest pinnacle of attainable man- 
hood. 

At this point the pendulum of the great clock of time 
ceased to vibrate to the strokes of Anno Mundi, and began 
to measure the cycles of the new calendar, Anno Domini. 

Living, as we do to-day, in the splendid light of the 
nineteenth century of Christian civilization, what is our 
conception of the ideal man? Is it Hercules, or Achilles, 
or even Apollo, combining physical strength with physical 
beauty? No. Invention, in its various forms, has reduced 
the muscular force of man to a minimum factor. Indeed, 
it does not enter into the estimate at all. Does intellectual 
vigor, power of thought, fill the measure, then ? To this ques- 
tion I may answer both yes and iio. It represents one ele- 
ment of ideal manhood, but only one. And yet this one 
is grand ; it is royal. The kingliest thing in this universe 
is thought. Born out of the infinite and the spiritual, it 
is everywhere conquering the finite and the material. It 
climbs upon a chain whose links are invisible from the 
known to the unknown ; it descends upon the unique rungs 
of a molecular ladder from concrete symbols to atomic 
attractions and repulsions ; it puts its ear upon the fossil- 
ized and petrified forms of dead generations, and listens to 
the secrets of geologic ages; it dives down into the depths 
of the ocean, and drags up old records which have lain for 
centuries in submarine caverns; it seizes the golden threads 
of light, unbraids their strands, and ascertains whether 



52 The Ideal Man. 



they have been seconds or cycles upon their journey. 
Thought has founded empires, it has unraveled the mys- 
teries of nebulous worlds, and has harnessed the electric- 
ity of the skies to its chariot of progress. Every flower 
of the field is simply a thought blossoming; every ocean is 
but a thought thundering its eternal base in nature's dia- 
pason; every bird that sweeps through the air like a liv- 
ing sapphire is simply a thought on wings; every man is 
but a thought breathing, every star a thought gleaming, 
every sun a thought burning, every angel a thought wor- 
shiping, every archangel a thought veiling its face in the 
presence of the Eternal Thinker — ay, this mighty universe 
is but one of God's thoughts shattered into ten thousand 
grand and beautiful forms of expression! Since thought, 
then, links human beings with angels and allies them to 
God, it is necessarily an important factor in our estimate; 
but power of thought alone does not constitute manhood. 

Shall we say that the man of aesthetic culture is our ideal? 
Again I answer in the negative. And yet I would not un- 
derrate the aesthetic faculty, the cultivation of that side of our 
nature which develops a love for "the beautiful" in all its 
Protean phases. It has been said that " genuine esthetics is 
a mighty channel through which Almighty God enters the 
human soul ; and it were an insult to the Creator to reject 
the influence which even the physical world exerts. From 
bald, hoary mountains, and somber, solemn forests; from 
thundering waves and way-side violets; from gorgeous sun- 
set clouds; from quiet stars and whispering winds, come 
unmistakable voices hymning of the great Eternal Beauty." 
Let us, then, though he does not meet all our requirements, 
admire him whose soul is sensitive to the touch of beauty, 
who is moved to exclaim often and irrepressibly : 

This world is very lovely ! O my God 
I thank thee that I live! 



The Ideal Man. 



But what of the Roman conception? Can we find our 
ideal man on the throne of the Caesars, or on the battle-fields 
of earth's conquering heroes? Is Alexander, on his Eastern 
expedition, spreading the Grecian civilization along the 
shores of the Mediterranean Sea, an ideal man? or Julius 
Csesar, subduing the barbarism of Western Europe to the 
discipline of the Roman Government? or Napoleon, on his 
rapid campaigns, shattering the ancient system of Europe- 
an States — are these the ideal men of the race? Not one 
of them. 

The ideal man of the nineteenth century is not a one- 
sided man. He is full-orbed and symmetric. There are 
in him not one or two predominating virtues, but all excel- 
lences — grandeur and beneficence, majesty and sweetness, 
strength and purity — adjusted, balanced in perfect equi- 
poise. 

The mythologic conception, the Grecian conception, the 
Roman conception, are all broken arcs, isolated segments, 
which the ideal man of to-day binds into a circle grand 
and complete. His body represents the perfection of phys- 
ical symmetry; his mind is the exponent of the highest in- 
tellectual attainments, of the simplest yet purest type of 
wisdom ; his emotions the widest compass of exquisite feel- 
ing; and his character the embodiment of that royalty 
which stamps him king of this lower world, the vicegerent 
of God. 

Shut in by lofty mountains, Hawthorne tells us, there 
lay a large and fertile valley containing many thousand 
inhabitants. On the perpendicular side of one of these 
mountains, and overlooking the entire valley, was a great 
stone face, so formed as to perfectly resemble the features 
of the human countenance. It seemed as though nature, 
in a strange mood, had carved the image of some giant 
or Titan on the granite steep. The features were all no- 



54 The Ideal Man. 



ble, and the expression was at once grand and sweet. There 
was an old prophecy concerning this mysterious physiogno- 
my, the purport of which was that at some future time a 
child would be born there who was destined to become 
the noblest man of his age, and whose countenance, in 
maturity, would bear an exact resemblance to the grett 
stone face. The inhabitants of the valley, though they had 
for years watched in vain for the coming of this great ben- 
efactor, still hoped and still cherished an enduring faith in 
the old legend. At last it was rumored that the counter- 
part of the great stone face was really coming among them. 
A son of the valley was about to return who, Midas-like, 
converted every thing he touched into gold. His coffers 
were full. Not only so, but to this yellow treasure he had 
added also the effulgence of splendid diamonds and the 
gleaming purity of large pearls. The people were pro- 
foundly stirred, for they felt that this man, with his vast 
wealth, would be to them an angel of bounty; that he 
would brighten their homes, and cause their valley to 
bloom like an Eden. But alas! when he came they sadly 
looked upon his hard, shrewd, miserly countenance; they 
could trace no resemblance there to the benignant aspect 
which beamed upon them from the great stone face on the 
mountain-side. Time passed, the weeks and months had 
grown into years, when again the news spread abroad that 
the great stone face had appeared in the person of an emi- 
nent statesman, who was even then on his way to his old 
home in the valley. As confident as before, the people 
went forth to test the likeness; but again disappointment 
awaited them. The massive head, the bold features, the 
lofty brow, were indeed there; but the awful sublimity, the 
grand expression of almost divine tenderness w 7 hich char- 
acterized the rock-hewn face, were wanting. After another 
long interval of alternate hope and despondency, a gifted 



The Ideal Man. 55 



poet suddenly began to flood the valley with the music 
of his genius. Richly endowed by Heaven, whatever he 
touched he glorified. The people were strangely moved as 
they listened ; and, once more lifting their eyes to the ma- 
jestic face that had for centuries kept watch above their 
valley, they cried aloud in the intensity of their eager 
longing: "O friend, is the waiting indeed ended? has he 
come at last?" But, though the granite lips were mute, 
their own hearts whispered as they gazed: "This is not the 
man of prophecy; our hopes are not yet fulfilled." Dur- 
ing all these years there lived in the valley a quiet, unob- 
trusive man, who from childhood had carried the image of 
this face in his heart. As he pondered he prayed again 
and again for the coming of the ideal man whose counte- 
nance should be its counterpart. He became a minister of 
the gospel, and by the simplicity of his wisdom and the 
purity of his life made a deep impression upon all the peo- 
ple of the valley. At times, as he preached to them of the 
radiant glories of the upper world, his face was strangely 
transfigured; and those who had listened to him as they 
passed up the valley would pause to look at the great stone 
face, fancying they had seen its likeness in a human coun- 
tenance, but could never remember where. After awhile his 
useful life was ended ; and as the inhabitants of the valley 
came to pay a last sad tribute to the memory of the dead, 
gazing upon the lofty purity of his cold brow, and awed 
by the majestic sweetness which still lingered about his no- 
ble lips, in hushed accents they whispered, " Behold the 
great stone face ! " He had been born and had lived and 
died in their midst, but they knew him not. 

That great stone face is the world's ideal man, deeply 
imbedded by nature's God in the great heart of humanity. 
During the mythologic age men fancied they saw its like- 
ness in Hercules; but the light of the coming centuries re- 



5G The Ideal Man 

vealed their error. Afterward they tried to trace its re- 
semblance in the cold face of the philosopher; but there 
too they were mistaken. As time wore on they still vainly 
looked for it in the realm of the beautiful, in the palaces 
of kings, in the homes of the learned, and in the chariots 
of triumphant warriors. 

Has the world, then, never found its ideal man? Is it 
doomed to search forever and search in vain for the exact 
counterpart of the great stone face? No. One starry 
night more than eighteen hundred years ago a babe was 
born in Bethlehem of Judea. The days of his boyhood 
were spent in simple toil amid the olive and palm trees of an 
Eastern village. His manhood was consecrated to the un- 
folding of all that is good, beautiful, and true in human nat- 
ure. At times, as he taught the people along the shores of 
blue-waved Galilee and from the sunny slopes of Olivet, 
with bated breath they whispered, " Never man spake like 
this man/' As they gazed upon the benign majesty, the 
God-like purity that sat enthroned upon his brow, they 
caught glimpses of That Face for whose appearance the 
world had been watching and waiting. Nevertheless, in 
their folly and madness at his supposed failure to meet 
their carnal expectations, they crucified him. And not 
until the death-agony had wrung from his lips the cry, "It 
is finished!" and gaping graves, shivering rocks, and dark- 
ling suns had given their testimony, did the world point to 
Jesus of Nazareth and exclaim, "Ecce Homo!" 



Earthly and FJeavenly Things, 



"Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth." 
(Colossians iii. 2.) 

EVERY human being possesses an original endowment 
of affection. God never created a soul to which he did 
not give a hidden fund of love. It is an essential part of 
each man's life. It is the capital with which he begins his 
immortal career. Whatever may be the outward expres- 
sions of a man's character, there is hidden somewhere in his 
nature a capacity for love. It may be that from his child- 
hood it has been a latent capacity, a sealed book, a fountain 
whose streams have never burst through the flinty surface 
of a rock-rough heart; but it is there. Every man's in- 
fancy is cradled by love. The first eyes that look upon us, 
and into which we look, are the eyes of love; the hands 
that first touch our baby brows are the hands of love; the 
first pressure of our infancy to a human heart is the press- 
ure of love; and the first kiss is the kiss of love. Love is 
the creative force that brings us into being. And the first 
motion, also, of the human soul in response to parental af- 
fection is the impulse, not of will nor of reason, but the 
impulse of love. One of the profoundest truths of human 
life is that every man is created to love and to be loved. A 
misanthrope — a man who hates all men and loves none — is 
a natural monstrosity; and, on the other hand, a man con- 
scious that he is hated by all and loved by no one in the 
universe suffers the pains of hell. 

These three things are constitutional in our nature, and 

(57) 



b& Earthly and Heavenly Things. 



therefore true: (1) Man was created to love and to be loved. 
(2) Every man has an innate fund of affection. (3) Every 
man will love something or some being. 

Comprehensively speaking, there arc two great worlds in 
which we may invest our capital of affection. The one is 
the world of the seen and the temporary ; the other is the 
world of the unseen and the eternal. These two worlds are 
the two suitors or rivals for our affection. " Things on the 
earth spread all their beauty before our eyes, sound their 
sweetest harmony in our ears, fill the atmosphere of our 
souls with their richest fragrance, with deft fingers weave 
their witchery of enchantment about our hearts, and with 
eloquent tongue plead, 'Love me; expend your fund of 
affection upon my treasures.' " While, on the other hand, 
things above — divine, spiritual, and heavenly things — un- 
fold their loveliness before our vision, sing their celestial 
songs, throw the charm of their heavenly spell upon our 
hearts, and entreat with supernatural tenderness, " Love 
me; set your affections upon my immortal possessions." 

Let us be a little more specific. By " things on the 
earth" the inspired writer doubtless meant, 

1. Earthly riches. We know from experience what 
strong attractions money has for our affections. The love 
of money is a powerful principle in human activity. The 
miser loves it for its own sake. Most men love it because 
of w T hat it represents and what it can purchase. 

2. Earthly honors. Man is an ambitious being. He as- 
pires to rule and reign over his fellows. The world's flat- 
tery, its admiration, its distinctions and preferments, all 
make strong appeals to his nature; and we know that many 
have set their affections upon the honors of this world. 

3. Once more, the pleasures of *' things on the earth " 
are the objects of the affection of thousands of others. To 
these persons, being's highest aim and end is pleasure. 



Earthly and Heavenly Things. 59 

Pleasure is their god, and pain is their devil. No loftier 
thoughts come into their minds than thoughts of pleasure, 
and the great search of their lives is a search after pleasure. 

These three things — earthly riches, earthly honors, and 
earthly pleasures — are what the text means by "things 
on the earth." 

When the apostle tells us to " set " not our affections upon 
these things, he does not mean that we are to neglect them 
altogether. They are eminently worthy of our attention. 
Every man ought to be diligent in seeking riches, and he 
ought to desire the honors of the world, and he ought to 
have pleasure while he lives. The text does not say we 
must not set our thoughts upon these things, nor that we 
should not give our attention and our time to their attain- 
ment ; but what it does say is, " Set not your affection on 
things on the earth." Earthly things afford a grand field 
for the investment of many of our powers. It is a noble 
work for a man to achieve temporal prosperity, to accumu- 
late wealth, and become a millionaire among men. It is a 
work worthy the intellectual capacities of man to so study 
the science of government and the wants of society that he 
shall be crowned with all the honors of statesmanship and 
political life. And it is also worthy of man to get from the 
world all the rational and innocent enjoyment possible to him. 
God did not intend human beings to be monks or ascetics 
or stoics. But, while all of these things are deserving of 
our thought and our intellectual and physical energy, they 
do not merit our affection. They furnish a grand field for 
the head and for the body, but not for the heart. Hence, 
the Bible tells us that when we seek for a safe investment 
of our love we must not look at things on the earth, but set 
our affections upon " things above." 

2. "What are "things above?" In answering this ques- 
tion you must remember that the apostle is speaking not of 



60 Earthly and Heavenly Things. 

natural but of spiritual altitude. We call heaven above, 
and hell below; but, so far as natural height and depth arc 
concerned, the geographical location of heaven may be un- 
der our feet, while hell may be above our heads. By things 
above, therefore, my text means things that are high in spir- 
itual quality and excellence. We ought to thank God that 
there are some " things above; " that every thing is not sor- 
did and earthly in its nature ; that there is more in human 
life than eating and drinking, and making money, and win- 
ning fading laurels; that there are principles and attain- 
ments higher and nobler than these, corresponding to the 
higher and nobler capacities of our being — things that look 
down upon us from their serene altitude, that speak to us 
in a language different from earth, that call us upward out 
of the animal and sensuous into the moral and spiritual; 
things that unwind the tendrils of our affections that cling 
to " things on earth," and set them upon objects worthy of 
their exalted character, centering them around those higher 
principles that move and act in the realms of God. 

(1) Spiritual riches, therefore, belong to things above — 
the unsearchable riches which Christ Jesus imparts to the 
believing soul. Wealth in spiritual beauty, in Christian 
purity of heart, in deeds of charity, in the resources of in- 
finite love, in hopes that banquet upon feasts of heavenly 
truth — these riches are from above. 

(2) Happiness also is above. To be happy in the true 
and deep sense, three things are necessary. First, there 
must be an Infinite Being; second, that Infinite Being must 
love me with an infinite tenderness; third, I must know 
that the affections of my highest nature are "set" or fixed 
upon him. Consciousness that God loves me and that I 
love God — that is happiness. It is the true joy of the soul. 
It cannot be found in " things rj) the earth," but in "things 
above." Jesus Christ, who sittcili at the ri<'ht-hand of Orel. 



Earthly and Heavenly Tilings. (>1 

the perfection of our being in the attainments of grace, an 
immortality of grandeur and glory — these are things above. 
And upon these my text tells us to set — that is, to fasten — 
our affections. But, 

3. Why should we set our affections on " things above," 
not on " things on the earth?" 

(1) Because of the eternal fitness of things. 

There ought to be a correspondence between the lover 
and the object loved, between the affections and that about 
which they entwine. But what fitness is there between the 
moral affections of the human heart and earthly things? 
The etymology of the Greek word for " man " shows that it 
means " one who looks up." Man is the only being in this 
w r orld created with the upward gaze. For a human being 
to cast his eye downward is an evidence of shame and guilt. 
The brutes keep their eyes upon the earth ; that which sat- 
isfies them comes from the earth. But man was born to 
look upward beyond the stars, and to set his affections upon 
"things above." For a man to fix his love upon earthly 
things is as incongruous as for an eagle to wed the wren or 
thrush; it is as if the bird of sweeping wing should build 
its nest in the dark caverns of earth rather than upon the 
mountain's peak, where storms never rage, but where the 
glad sunlight ever shines; it is like earth falling in love 
with hell's drear abode rather than with heaven's fadeless 
beauty and eternal joy. 

(2) The only w 7 ay in which we can enjoy things upon the 
earth is by setting our affections upon things above. 

Earthly possessions and worldly distinctions are a subor- 
dinate good. They can be made to contribute to our com- 
fort; they can be used as a means to an end. When our 
love is centered upon heavenly things, and when our world- 
ly wealth and worldly pursuits are controlled by these high 
affections, then, as slaves do the bidding of their masters. 



02 Ear'Jdy and Heavenly Things. 

so may our earthly affairs bring pleasure to our hearts. 
When we are independent of them, when we do not feel 
that they are at all necessary to our happiness, then we may 
enjoy them; but the moment we set our affections upon 
earthly things, and give to heavenly things only snatches 
of thought and time, then we reverse the law of God, and 
become servants where we ought to be masters. A man 
who loves money, power, and pleasure, however much lie 
may have, does not so much possess them as they possess 
him. He is their slave ; he rivets the chains of his own bond- 
age; and under these circumstances, earthly things, in- 
stead of satisfying, intensify his discontent. They only in- 
crease the appetites they were intended to gratify. Suppose 
you say to me, " I am thirsty." I say, " Go to yonder street, 
and quench your thirst from its dust." You reply, " That 
will only intensify my thirst." So it is with the affections 
of your hearts. You set them upon worldly things. You 
make money; you win honors; you rush into fresh forms of 
pleasure. Are you happy? "No; but I will be," you say, 
"when I gain more." O men and women, believe me! 
You can quench your natural thirst from the dust of the 
street easier than you can quench the thirst of your affec- 
tions by setting them upon things on the earth. The affec- 
tions were made for God and things above, and when you 
violate the law of this creation you bring misery and ruin 
upon your hearts. 

(3) Another reason why we should set our affections upon 
things above is because the affections determine character. 

In accordance with a law that is universal, in our inmost 
lives w r e become assimilated to that which we love. If the 
object of our affections be base, our character gradually 
grows base ; if the object be noble, our character gradually 
grows noble. What effect, then, must setting our affections 
on earthly things produce? They must drag us down to 



Earthly and Heavenly Things. 6' 



their own level ; they cannot lift us above themselves. Take 
a man whose affections are set on money. He will not ad- 
mit that he loves money, but everybody knows where his 
attachments arc-. Does not that man's character gradually, 
grow less and less in power and magnitude? Do not the 
very features of his face become hard like the dollar he 
loves? and are not the finer feelings of his nature rolled up 
in a wad and laid away as he rolls up his greenbacks and 
puts it into his purse? This process is silent, and so grad- 
ual that the man himself does not recognize it; but to other 
eyes the truth is plainly discernible. Take a woman whose 
affections are set on dress and style, whose highest vision of 
life culminates in painted cheeks, Parisian costumes, a pony 
phaeton, a lap-dog, and the world's flattery ; and does not 
that woman's character gradually grow as fickle as the fash- 
ions she loves, as shallow as the admiration she receives? 
Our affections will determine our character. This is the 
reason God commands us to set them upon things abeve. 
These lofty principles will gradually lift our characters up. 
By their transforming influence they will elevate us higher 
and still higher in the scale of moral grandeur until we be- 
come like God. Upon our very features will be written the 
patent of our spiritual nobility. Our lives will be benedic- 
tions to the age in which we live, and our examples will be 
moral fountains, which pour forth streams of beneficent in- 
fluence upon society. 

(4) But the grand and final reason why we should set 
our affections on things above is that our affections arc im- 
mortal and imperishable, while things on the earth arc mor- 
tal and perishable. 

The experience of every one who has set his or her affec- 
tions upon things on earth has proved that this world can- 
not be trusted, with love. The voice of humanity, as ex- 
pressed in its literature, is that every thing beneath the 



64 Earthly and Heavenly Things. 

stars is transitory and evanescent. The joys of this world 
are like bubbles that for a moment swell and glitter with 
rainbow colors, then disappear. Its glories are like the vine 
. and leaves of the gourd under whose shade Jonah sought 
refuge from the noontide, but which withered before the 
rising of the morning sun. Its honors are like spring flow- 
ers that blossom while the early dew sparkles upon their 
lovely petals, but droop and die under the burning rays of 
the midday heat; like shadows that cast themselves moment- 
arily over the landscape, and then are gone forever; like 
the vapor and cloud which encircle the mountain's brow, 
but which melt away into viewless air at the touch of sun- 
light ; like the meteoric light that flashes brilliantly across 
the sky, and then disappears in the blackness of darkness. 
Upon every page of the visible universe God has written, 
" There is nothing here that shall last." 

Not only the beauty of outward phenomena, but the 
earth itself, and all that it contains, is doomed. Hollow 
fires even now are burning deep down upon the vitals of 
our world, and occasionally breaking through the craters 
of volcanoes in lava-floods. Electric currents are running 
along all its veins of silver and its arteries of gold. There 
is coming a time when the sea shall be on fire, and the at- 
mosphere ablaze, and the world a sheet of flame. " The 
corpse of the earth shall be wrapped in a winding-sheet of 
fire, and coffined in the smoke of her own burning, and 
buried in deep destruction's gloomy vault, while the stars, 
bright mourners, shall look sadly on, and weep at the fu- 
neral of a sister world." 

But the affections which have been set upon the things 
of earth are immortal, and will outlast their perishable ob- 
jects. Who, then, can picture the torture of a soul bereft 
of the objects of its love? It must go on sighing and moan- 
ing in an eternal life of insatiate wishing; for what it has 



Earthly and Heavenly Things. Qo 

not. You have seen a wife whose affections were set upon 
her husband. His smile was her joy, his approbation her 
delight, his presence her heaven ; but death came and be- 
reft her heart of its treasure, and as she stood by his grave 
clothed in the weeds of her widowhood, who did not pity 
her? But ah! the eternal widowhood of a heart that loved 
the things of this world, and is separated from them for- 
ever! We have a thousand illustrations all around us. 
The lawyer whose affections are set upon his profession 
sinks deeper and deeper every year into " his dusty tomes 
and musty parchments." His reputation is national in its 
glory; but death comes, and separates his affections from 
their object. Behold him now in eternity, his worldly hon- 
ors shriveled by the torture-fires of the damned, himself 
the condemned criminal with no advocate! What can he 
do to lessen his agony? Look at the physician. His affec- 
tions are set upon his calling. He thinks and talks and 
writes of nothing but vital force, nervous disorder, the bili- 
ary duct, etc., until some morning he dies ; and now what 
shall he do in that burning world, where disease will reign 
forever and no plants of remedial agency grow? Look at 
the merchant. His affections are given to his business. He 
has no time for works of charity, for the prayer-meeting, 
for the Sunday-school; but through heat and cold, sunshine 
and rain, he goes to his place of business, until at last he 
sinks beneath his self-imposed burden, " crushed to death 
by his ow r n accounts." What can he do now, with the day 
of judgment at hand and his account with God still unset- 
tled? Look at the woman of the world; for she too, in the 
midst of fashion and folly, must succumb to the insatiate 
archer. See her in hell, where there are no founts at which 
she may quench her thirst for admiration, but where the 
fires of eternal wrath will fast consume her loveliness! 
What pen can picture her misery? 
5 



66 Earthly and Heavenly Things. 



But how shall it be with him whose affections have been 
set upon things above? He shall find that the objects of 
his devotion abide forever. That God, whom he loved white 
on earth with all his mind and soul and heart, he shall find 
in eternity still lives and reigns. That blessed Christ, who 
sacrificed his life for our redemption, he shall find more 
beautiful and more lovely than when upon the earth hii 
soul was committed to his sacred keeping. His affections 
were set upon truth ; he shall find truth in all its grandeur 
in the world to come. He loved purity, and its founts will 
be playing night and day to quench his thirst. He loved 
the people of God, and they will be the companions of his 
life forever. He set his affections upon God's heaven, God's 
beauty, God's glory; and when he dies these affections will 
still enjoy their objects through all eternity. 

O men and women, where are your affections to-day? 
Are they set upon money, or social distinctions, or world'iy 
pleasure? Then beware! The time of separation hastens. 
Your affections shall be eternally divorced from their ob- 
jects, and your hearts shall mourn through eternity. Are 
your affections set upon things above? Are you often at 
the mercy-seat? O do you find your heart climbing the 
golden stair-way of prayer, and pouring out its desires ia 
the earnest petition, 

Let me love thee more and more 
Till this fleeting life is o'er, 
Till my soul is lost in love 
In a hrighter world above'/ 

Then your immortality will be glorious. A destiny awalfca 
you whose grandeur no tongue can declare, and whose bliss 
no heart can conceive. "Set your affection," therefore, 
"on things above, not on things on the earth; " and "wln:n 
Christ, who is our life, shall appear, then shall ye also ap- 
pear with him in glory." 



Earthly and Heavenly Things. 67 

The life below, the life above; how great the difference! 
how wide the contrast! 

Down below, a sad, mysterious music 

Wailing from the woods and on the shore, 

Burdened with a grand, majestic secret, 
Which 'keeps sweeping from us evermore. 

Up above, a music that entwineth, 
In eternal threads of golden sound, 

The great poem of this strange existence, 

All whose wondrous meaning hath been found. 

Down below, the grave within the church-yard 
And the anguish on the young face pale, 

And the watcher, ever as it dusketh, 
Eocking to and fro with long, sad wail. 

Up above, a crowned and happy spirit, 
Like an infant in the eternal years, 

Who shall grow in light and love forever, 
Ordered in his place among his peers. 

O the sobbing of the winds of autumn! 

O the sunset streak of stormy gold! 
O the poor heart thinking in the church-yard, 

"Night is coming, and the grave is coidl'* 

O the rest forever and the rapture! 

O the hand that wipes the tears away! 
O the golden hours beyond the sunset! 

O the God that watches o'er the clay I 



Filled will} All ttje Fullness of Gnd. 



" That ye might be filled with all the fullness of God." (Ephe- 
sians iii. 19.) 

THE Bible assumes two fundamental truths. The first is, 
"God is a Spirit." The inspired writers do not argue 
this statement. They always take it for granted. So deep- 
ly do they suppose this conviction to be grounded in our 
notion of God, that when they speak of him as having ears 
or hands or feet or eyes they consider that we know 7 these 
are only figures of speech, accommodations to our spiritual 
weakness and ignorance. The second truth which the 
Scriptures assume is that man is a spirit. He was created 
in the image of God ; and as God is a Spirit, so man is 
a spirit. Hence, there is no difference in kind between 
God and man, but a difference of degree. God is infinite; 
man is finite. God is absolute and self-existing; man is 
relative and dependent. All intelligent spiritual beings be- 
long to one family. This is not true of material substances. 
The minerals of the globe differ in kind from the vegeta- 
bles, and the vegetables from the animals. But in all in- 
telligences, from the humblest spirit on earth up through 
all gradations to the loftiest archangel, there is kinship of 
nature, a brotherhood of essential properties. 

It is this identity of essence with God that constitutes our 
capacity for conceiving and apprehending God. Unless 
we had in our natures attributes corresponding to God's at- 
tributes, we could form no conception of the Supreme Be- 
ing. We cannot in thought attribute to God any perfec- 
tion the germ of which does not slumber in our own be- 
(08) 



Filled with All the Fullness of God. 69 

ings. It is justice in man that enables him to conceive of 
justice in God; it is thought in man that enables him to 
conceive of intelligence in God ; and it is only through our 
imperfect experiences of sympathy, love, and grace that 
we frame our ideas of God's love, God's sympathy, God's 
grace. 

There are those who contend that God makes himself 
known to us through the manifestations of his attributes 
in nature and in the Holy Scriptures. But these revela- 
tions of God, however grand and imposing in themselves, 
would be without meaning to us did we not possess, in ger- 
minal form, the same powers which God reveals in infinite 
perfection through his works. Man could no more have 
any true notion of God without a kindred nature than 
rocks and stones and trees can have any true notion of 
man's nature. Why does not the faded flower sympathize 
with the maiden in her grief over the loss of him whose 
touch hallowed the flower? Because it has no heart akin 
to the maiden's heart. It is only kindred natures that cau 
reveal themselves each to other. Mind can manifest itself 
only to mind, conscience only to conscience, heart only to 
heart. I emphasize this principle because it is the foun* 
dation-truth upon which the doctrine of the text rests. If 
you deny that our essential faculties — not in scope and per- 
fectness, but in quality — are the same as the divine attri- 
butes, then you are a materialist, and deny all possible 
knowledge of the invisible realm. So that not only will it 
be impossible to be filled with all the fullness of God, but it 
will be impossible to have any true knowledge of God. The 
doctrine of the text implies an impartation of God to us ; 
but how shall we be able to receive this impartation unless 
our natures are kindred to God's nature? Hence, God 
created us not after the likeness of sun or moon or stars 
or brutes, but after his own image. The human spirit is 



70 Filled with All the Fullness of God. 

the finite counterpart of the Divine Spirit. Consequently 
this counterpart may be filled 'with all the fullness of the 
Eternal Substance. 

But let us try to form in our own minds some proper idea 
of the meaning of the expression, " The fullness of God." 

1. As an infinite Spirit, God cannot be comprehended by 
Us. The less cannot understand the greater ; the finite cau^ 
not comprehend the infinite. The challenge of the Bible 
is, " Canst thou by searching find out God? canst thou find 
out_ the Almighty unto perfection? " Many modern scien- 
tists call God " the unknown and unknowable." In one 
sense these men speak the truth ; God is unknown and un- 
knowable in the infinite volume of his being. But he is 
both known and knowable in the quality of his being. No 
man would hold a lighted candle out of his window and 
say, " This is sunrise." Nevertheless, the fire in the candle 
and the fire in the sun are identical in their essential nat- 
ure, though not in magnitude nor in power of heat and il- 
lumination. No man would dip a goblet of water from the 
ocean and say, " This is the ocean." Still, the water in the 
goblet is the same in quality as the water in the ocean. 
That goblet is a revelation of the quality but not of the quan- 
tity of water in the sea. So by virtue of the constituent ele- 
ments of our nature, in which God's image is stamped, we 
may know God; but, because he is infinite and we are 
finite, we cannot know him in the totality of his being. 
God is the uncreated sun; our souls are solar spectra; and 
as divine light strikes these spectra it is refracted and re- 
flected in its essential properties. But Professor Tyndall 
has demonstrated that there are what he calls "invisible 
rays " in natural light. So we may say there are invisible 
rays in God-properties for which there is no correspond- 
ence in us ; but so far as our capacity extends, so far is 
our knowledge of him true. What we know of God is 



Filled lolth All the Fullness of God. 71 

true, but not the whole truth. Hence, our knowledge of 
him is like our knowledge of light. It does not come 
through direct analysis, but through the manifestations of 
himself which he has been pleased to make. Where, then, 
shall we discover " the fullness of God ? " Assuredly where- 
ever this fullness has been revealed. But where has God 
revealed his fullness? In creation? No. In providence? 
No. " In Christ," says Paul, " dwelleth all the fullness of 
the Godhead bodily." And Christ himself hath said, "He 
that hath seen me hath seen the Father." In Jesus Christ, 
then, we are to ascertain the meaning of the expression, 
"All the fullness of God." Jesus is God incarnate, stoop- 
ing to the level of our understanding, moving on the plane 
of humanity, and through human eyes and a human voice, 
and through the thoughts of a human mind and the sensi- 
bilities of a human heart, interpreting unto us what is 
meant by the words, "All the fullness of God." Looking 
at the subject, then, from this stand-point, Ave see that the 
fullness of God means, 

(1) The fullness of divine personality. It makes me 
sick at heart to hear God spoken of by learned men in this 
age as " a stream of tenderness," as an impersonal force or a 
metaphysical abstraction. That wonderful and mysterious 
being who walked the public highways and climbed the 
holy hills of Judea ; who talked about God to the multi- 
tude from the Mount of Beatitudes and by the side of 
blue-waved Galilee, who knelt in prayer on the solitary 
heights of Hermon and wept by the grave of Lazarus, 
did not reveal God as a crystallized iceberg or a passionless 
abstraction, but as a sublime and divine Person. What are 
the essential elements of personality? Mind, will, heart. 
Did not Christ reveal these elements? Did any created 
mind ever think as Christ thought? Where have any 
thoughts been uttered that have so stirred the great depths 



72 Filled with All the Fullness of God. 

of humanity as those that flowed through the words of 
Christ? There were in them a power and grandeur, an 
inspiration and divinity, a solidity and intensity, that can 
be explained only by saying they were the fullness of di- 
vine thoughts. And as to will, did ever such volitions 
spring from human or angelic wills as the volitions of 
Christ? He willed to bear the sins of the whole world; 
he willed to sacrifice his life for sinners. Take the last ele- 
ment of personality — heart. Did ever heart love like the 
heart of God in Christ ? Standing by Calvary, do not the 
poet's words strike us as sober expressions when he said, 

O Lamb of Goel, was ever pain, 
Was ever love like thine ? 

The fullness of God was in his love as it was in his thoughts 
and volitions. Therefore, in Jesus we behold the fullness 
of divine personality. 

(2) The fullness of God also means the fullness of life. 
The grandest thing in this universe is life ; the most inter- 
esting subject is the subject of life ; the sublimest phenom- 
ena are the phenomena of life. How wonderful is life as 
we see it in nature — in the delicate beauty of flower and 
plant, in the majestic growth of trees, and in the golden 
harvests of farm and field! But these are only faint pulsa- 
tions and feeble throbbings of the great principle of life. 
How grand is life in the brutes that perish! how much 
grander in man, who thinks and loves and acts! how much 
grander still in angels that soar and sing! But all these are 
but currents, only small streams that spring from the full- 
ness of life in God. His Godhead is the limitless empire 
of life, its infinite repository, its origin "eternal, fathom- 
less, deep." 

That word "fullness" is a relative term in its ordinary 
uses. The idea which it conveys to our minds depends upon 



Filled with All the Fullness of God. 73 

the object of which it is predicated. If you stand beside 
a rivulet overflowing its shallow banks, you have a concep- 
tion of fullness ; but if from the rivulet you go to the ma- 
jestic river, your conception of fullness enlarges ; and if 
from the river you go the gulf, your idea of fullness ex- 
pands still more ; and if from the gulf you go and stand on 
the ocean's shore and gaze outward until horizon and water 
meet, your idea of fullness grows broader and deeper yet ; 
and if from the ocean you turn your thought to the atmos- 
phere, pervading all space, circling all worlds, filling all 
depths, rising to all heights, the conception of fullness be- 
gins to reach up toward infinity. But how small is this 
conception of fullness as compared with "all the fullness of 
God! " You stand upon the banks of the Amazon or Mis- 
sissippi, and as you gaze upon their broad bosoms and deep 
channels you say to yourself: " Here are these streams 
flowing on as they have flowed for centuries, bearing upon 
their strong currents the commerce of the world, and yet 
their channels sink deeper, and their bosoms expand wider, 
and their majestic volumes of water flow grander every 
year." What an idea of inexhaustible fullness comes into 
your mind! And then you throw your eye upward toward 
the sun. You see him as he shoots above the crest of the 
mountain and lights up the heavens with his golden rays; 
you think of how many snows of winter he has melted, 
how many flowers of spring he has painted, how many 
fruits of summer he has ripened, how many harvests of 
autumn he has matured, how much warmth he has sup- 
plied, and how many rays of light he has poured upon the 
cold hearts of the children of his solar family. And yet 
there he is to-day, moving along his orbit with a furnace 
of fire as hot and a repository of light as unexhausted as 
when the angels first saluted his glowing chariot with their 
songs of gladness and their shouts of joy. But what are 



74 Filled with All the Fullness of God. 

rivers and suns but drops and rays of the fullness of God? 
When the fires of the last day shall have licked up all the 
waters of the globe, and when the sun shall grow dim 
with age, and every spark of fire in the universe shall be 
quenched, the fullness of God will still roll its streams of 
gladness between the banks of the river of life, and with 
its billowy radiance light up the thrones of eternity with 
divine splendor. 

O thou Eternal One, whose presence bright 
All space doth occupy, all nations guide! 
Unchanged through time's all-devastating flight, 

Thou, only God ! 

A million torches, lighted by thy hand, 

Wander unwearied through the blue abyss; 
They own thy power, accomplish thy command, 

All gay with life, all eloquent with bliss. 
What shall we call them? Piles of crystal light? 

A glorious company of golden streams? 
Lamps of celestial ether, burning bright? 

Suns, lighting systems with their joyous beams? 
But thou to these art as the dav to night. 



Yes, as a drop of water in the sea, 
All the magnificence in thee is lost. 



What am I, then? Naught? 
Naught! but the affluence of thy light divine, 

Pervading worlds, hath reached my bosom too. 
Yes, in my spirit doth thy Spirit shine 

As shines a sunbeam in a drop of dew. 
Naught! but I live, and on hope's pinions fly 

Eager toward thy presence; for in thee 
I live and breathe and dwell, aspiring high, 

Even to the throne of thy divinity. 

This brings us to the next phase of my subject, which, if 
possible, is more wonderful than the first. 

2. "Our spirits may be filled with all the fullness of 
God." God has power to impart, and we have power to 



Filled ivith All the Fullness of God. 75 

receive, all the fullness of divine personality and of divine 
life. Does this doctrine seem to you extravagant ? Is it a 
statement incredible to your faith or reason that finite spir- 
its like ours have capacity to receive and contain all the 
plenitude and amplitude of the Infinite God? Still, my 
text is an inspired prayer. It is the climax of the grandest 
prayer that ever leaped from a human heart to the throne 
of the Eternal. The Holy Ghost does not indite impossi- 
ble petitions. Hence, when Paul prayed that Christians 
" might be filled with all the fullness of God," it was be- 
cause Christian capacity of reception Avas equal to this full- 
ness. Peter says that the designs of the promises of God 
are that "we may be partakers of the divine nature." But 
Paul goes farther still. Not only " partakers," but receiv- 
ers of " all the fullness of God." We must not, however, 
give to this text a mechanical meaning; we must not re- 
gard our spirits simply as empty cisterns, while God is 
a great reservoir of water, and his fullness a majestic stream 
flowing into these cisterns until they are filled. But God's 
communication of his fullness and our reception must be 
understood according to the law of spiritual communica- 
tion and reception. The principle of human love illus- 
trates this law. You sometimes say of a wife, She is full 
of her husband. Through the medium of speech and ex- 
pression, and through these spiritual and mysterious chan- 
nels which mutual love opens between the human spirits, 
the fullness of thought and plan and purpose and affection 
in one person flows into and fills the mind and heart of an- 
other. So it is between our spirits and God. I assumed 
at the outset that they were identical in essence and kindred 
in nature. In this fact is found our capacity to receive 
God. I anticipate an objection here which perhaps should 
be noticed. 

(1) The attributes of God are infinite. To be filled with 



76 . Filled with All the Fullness of God. 

all the fullness of God is to be filled with all the fullness of 
infinite attributes. But how can a finite spirit possessed of 
finite attributes be filled with an infinite spirit possessing 
infinite attributes ? We must remember that two classes of 
attributes belong to God. 

(a) Those that belong to him in his unrelated character, 
which were innate in his being during that eternity prior 
to the beginning of creation ; and secondly, those attributes 
that came into expression when he threw himself in rela- 
tion to creation — his related attributes. Hence, when the 
apostle speaks of our being filled with the fullness of God, 
he evidently refers to the fullness of those attributes which 
stand related to intelligent and spiritual beings, and not to 
those with which we sustain no relation. 

(b) In the second place, that word " all " in the text — " all 
the fullness " — does not refer so much to quantity as to 
quality. Look at the rainbow arching the background of 
the thunder-cloud. It is filled with all the fullness of light. 
The seven prismatic colors — all that light is known to pos- 
sess — are beautifully blended in the bow; yet no one rain- 
bow, no thousand rainbows possess all the color that light 
can paint. So my spirit may be filled with all the fullness 
of infinite perfections; so may your spirits; so may the 
angels. Yet we do not contain all the fullness that exists 
in God. An attribute does not lose its essence by being 
infinite; its quality is not changed by enlargement. Love, 
truth, wisdom, and goodness do not become something else 
by mere expansion into infinity. If they did, we would 
lose God through his infinity. Love as it exists in God is 
purer, finer, grander than love in us; but its essence and 
quality are identical. Hence, we may be filled with all the 
fullness of God in quality, though Ave may not be able to 
contain the infinite quantity and immeasurable volume of 
his divine nature. 



Filled with All the Fullness of God. 77 



3. But, after all, in the constitution of our spirits, as well 
as in the Scriptures, I find what may be called a human in- 
finity. 

(1) It seems to me that the conception of infinity which 
we are able to form is possible only to a spirit that has lim- 
itless faculties and powers. By the very law of our nat- 
ure we can conceive of that only of which we have the 
germ, the beginning, in our own souls. How, then, can we 
conceive of infinity except by virtue of our capacity to re- 
ceive the infinite? 

(2) Again: why do we ascribe infinity to God? Be- 
cause there are in our natures capacities whose abysmal 
depths yearn for an unbounded being to fill them. Why 
are we never satisfied with finite things and finite attain- 
ments? Why is it that, though surrounded by every thing 
that heart can wish for or appetite suggest — why is it that, 
though we gained the whole world, our souls would still 
" thirst for God, for the living God? " Only because there 
are wants and aspirations in our nature that can be satis- 
fied only with the infinite. 

(3) Besides this, when I see a human soul grappling with 
the sublime mysteries of the universe, and dashing off 
great burning thoughts that blaze like meteors along the 
sky of mind; when I behold genius soaring aloft in poetry 
until it beats its wings against the latticed windows of heav- 
en, or reveling in the raptures of harmony until it listens 
to the vesper songs of angels in the cathedrals of eternity, 
or drinking in the beauty of landscapes and glorious sun- 
set skies, and then reproducing them on canvas — I tell you 
I feel that I am in the presence of a humanity that has in- 
finity written upon its capacities. And when I listen to 
such a man as Paul talking about knowing a love that 
passes knowledge, and seeing things that are unseeable, 
and possessing a peace that passeth understanding; and 



78 Filled with All the Fullness of God. 

when I hear Peter exulting in " a joy unspeakable and full 
of glory " — I am listening to Christian experiences that 
have infinity stamped upon them. O why is it that great 
and good souls are forever bursting their limits and rush- 
ing forward to untried possibilities? I do not know, unless 
God's infinity has its image and counterpart in our spirits, 
and that this image and counterpart may be filled with all 
the fullness of God. 

4. If I have rightly interpreted this passage, it strikes 
me, in conclusion, 

(1) That to be filled with all the fullness of God is the 
supreme glory of our being. It is a glory of which man 
in this world has a blessed monopoly. In a limited sense 
it is true that the universe is full of God. It is his nature 
to diffuse himself everywhere and impart his fullness to 
all his creations. It is God's fullness which we behold in 
the flower-starred emerald that carpets the earth, and in 
the glowing beauty of the rose ; it is God's fullness that 
breaks in golden splendor along the sky at the rising of 
the moon ; and his fullness also that gilds with beauty the 
avenues along which the sun drives his fiery steeds through 
the amber gates of sunset. But nowhere, in the material 
world do we behold the fullness of God's moral glory. 
Justice and truth, wisdom and holiness, purity and love, 
cannot be photographed upon passive matter. To man 
only, in this world, belongs the high prerogative of being 
the repository of the fullness of spiritual glory. Can 
there be a higher dignity, a loftier grandeur? Intellectual 
achievements, I know, constitute a radiant crown upon the 
brow of mind. It is glorious to be a discoverer and in- 
ventor and creator in this world ; but how much more glo- 
rious to have our spirits so filled with God that justice in 
us shall correspond to divine justice, that our wisdom shall 
be the counterpart of Omniscience, that our holiness shall 



Filled with All the Fullness of God. 



image the divine holiness, that our love shall respond to 
the throbbings of infinite love, and that our purity shall 
mirror as the transparent lake mirrors the stars the un- 
fathomed depth and awful beauty of absolute purity! It 
is this capacity that makes human nature glorious, and con- 
stitutes it the grand receptacle of " all the fullness of God." 

(2) This also will be the supreme joy of heaven. When 
we think of heaven only as a place, we do not apprehend 
its highest glory. When our notion of heaven contains 
nothing more than its pearly gates, and jasper walls, and 
glassy sea, and golden pavements, and crystal fountains, and 
trees of life, we" lose the true idea of heaven in the gorgeous 
imagery that describes it. All this imagery has a spiritual 
meaning. " The pavements of gold are the soul-paths trod- 
den in holy communion with God; the crystal fountains 
are the pure thoughts and loves that leap from our pure 
spirits toward God ; the jasper walls are the bulwarks of 
an approving conscience; the radiance of the sun that 
never sets is the undimmed effulgence that shines into our 
spirits from the face of God ; the river of life is the full- 
ness of joy that rolls through every power of our nature; 
and the tree of life, with its twelve manner of fruits, is the 
unspeakable variety of the blessedness of immortal life." 
"Filled with all the fullness of God " — this is the meaning 
of the glowing imagery of the Apocalypse. 

God's fullness is an infinite ocean. It can fill every 
thing without danger of being exhausted. Its waters are 
always pure and surging in grandeur and power. O when 
there is such an ocean of divine love and power and joy, 
why should not our poor empty hearts be filled? why should 
they remain empty? why should they be only half full? 
why should we be content with a little spray which the 
highest waves are able to dash over us now and then? why 
not let this majestic tide surge coutinuallv through our 



80 Filled with All the Fullness of God. 

souls, cleansing us and filling us " with all the fullness of 
God?" The difference between our glorified friends in 
heaven and us is that they are already filled and we are in 
process of filling. The ebb and flow of God's fullness 
leaches our hearts and quickens our activities just as the 
tides of the ocean are felt in all the bays along its shores. 
We shall be filled by and by — " rivulets hear the voice of 
river and ocean." The sublime personality and moral at- 
tributes and divine life of God in Christ shall so enlarge 
our nature and exalt our powers that " we shall move in 
the divire movement, rest in the divine center, be blessed 
in the divine beatitude, and find our paradise by being im- 
paradised in God." It is good to be filled with God; it is 
better to be filled with the fullness of God; it is heaven and 
immortality to be filled with "all the fullness of God." 



Glorying in Tribulation,* 



"We glory in tribulations also."" (Romans v. 3.) 

THIS is strange language to the ear of the world. It is 
difficult for men to understand how, without fanaticism 
or insanity, Paul could say he gloried in tribulations. If he 
had said, "We glory in success, we glory in victory, we 
glory in unlimited riches, we glory in the triumphs of 
truth," they could have understood and appreciated his glo- 
rying; but when he passes by all these things, and selects 
as the objects of. his special boasting the trials and difficul- 
ties of life, he puts himself beyond the comprehension of 
most men. 

If Ave had our way in the arrangement of the world, we 
would dispense with all vexation and opposition. If we 
could, we would go through life without a physical pain, be 
rich without exertion, be learned without study, be power- 
ful and honored without struggle, be great without achieve- 
ment, pass out of life through the gate-way of translation, 
and "be carried to the skies on flowery beds of ease." But 
this theory of life is in direct conflict with God's purpose 
concerning us, as revealed in his word. The whole tenor 
of the New Testament especially is that tribulation, temp- 
tation, and difficulties are for our greatest good. Our Lord 
says: "Blessed are they that mourn; . . . blessed are the 
persecuted; . . . blessed are ye when men shall revile you." 

'^Delivered in the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, Tusca- 
loosa, Ala., by the pastor, Rev. R. T. Nabors, Sunday night, August 
19, 1833. 

G (81) 



82 Glorying in Tribulation 

He calls upon his disciples "to rejoice and be exceeding 
glad" when they are afflicted. The apostles, when they de- 
parted from the Jewish council, "rejoiced that they were 
counted worthy to suffer shame for Christ's sake." Peter 
tells Christians to rejoice when they are partakers of Christ's 
sufferings, and pronounces them happy when they are re- 
proached for his sake. And in writing to the Corinthians 
•Paul says: "I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in 
necessities, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ's sake." 
He gives expression to the same sentiment in the text, from 
which it is evident that he had discovered a secret in the 
struggles of life unknown to most men. What was that 
secret? Had Paul found that tribulations in themselves 
were enjoyable? or that there was an element of grandeur 
in the mere fact of suffering? No; for in another place he 
tells us: "No chastening for the present seemeth to be joy- 
ous, but grievous; nevertheless" — and that word "never- 
theless" is the key that unlocks the door to the secret of his 
glorying — "nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable 
fruits of righteousness unto them which are exercised there- 
by." It was because he had discovered the uses of trials 
in the economy of grace that he gloried in them ; it was 
because he had grasped the divine philosophy of life's strug- 
gles that he boasted in them. What is that philosophy? 
As I see it, it is this: Opposition and conflict constitute the 
law of development ; trial and tribulation the condition of 
human perfection. This postulate I wish to discuss and il- 
lustrate at this hour. 

1. And in the very outset I would say that I believe that 
this law of development and perfection by means of conflict 
and suffering is organic in the constitution of things ; by 
which I mean that it is not a law superinduced on account 
of sin. Although it has been intensified and made more 
serious by sin, still, if man had never sinned, opposition 



Glorying in Tribulation. 83 

would have been the law of development and trial the path- 
way to perfection. You may look at man in the garden 
of Eden before his fall, and you must see in him those pow- 
ers of endurance, of achievement, of courage, and of faith 
which could never have been developed by a life of "inglo- 
rious ease." Man seems to be so constituted that "his pur- 
est joys spring out of his sorrows, his riches grow by his 
losses, his fullest development is the fruit of his hardest toil, 
his noblest becomings spring from his greatest sacrifices, and 
his immortal life bursts from his death." Looking at a be- 
ing like man, made on such a scale of "godlike proportions," 
we cannot believe that it was intended that his should be a 
quiet, undisturbed, easy life, such as he was living in orig- 
inal paradise. As another has said: "To wander pleas- 
antly along the soft glades of a luxuriant garden, to bask 
on the grassy slopes in the noontide glow, lulled by the 
hum of joyous life that floats on the summer air, plucking 
at will the fruits that hang in downy clusters within easy 
reach of his hands, exercised by such gentle toils as might 
prune and chasten the too luxuriant beauty of his bower, 
lit by the rosy flush of dawn to his daily employments and 
by the moon's white crescent to his nightly repose, king in 
a world where there is no collision." This is a beautiful 
picture, an exquisite, lovely dream; but is it not the vision 
of childhood? Would such a life ever have touched the 
springs of man's true greatness, unlocked the secret places 
of his power, or liberated upon the world his imperial 
forces? Never. All things unite to say: "Through oppo- 
sition, difficulty, struggle, conflict, and tribulation lies the 
pathway along which man must walk into symmetric de- 
velopment and consummate perfection." 

2. We see this truth faintly illustrated in the material 
universe. Look at this world. Is it not a grand creation? 
Do not its landscapes smile with beauty and beam with flo- 



84 Glorying in Tribulation. 

ral loveliness? Do not its mountains tower in majesty and 
its oceans swell with grandeur? How did it reach its pres- 
ent state of development toward perfection ? Was it let 
down from heaven a finished production, already garnished 
and furnished? No; both Scripture and geology teach us 
it began in chaos, and through ages of struggle, through 
wars of water and fire, electricity and gas, it gradually 
emerged into cosmical beauty and glory. The flowers that 
regale us with their perfume, liberate their sweetness in 
their struggles in nature's stormy laboratory. The trees of 
the forest develop the strength of their roots and trunk and 
branches by contending against the fury of the tornado, 
while the atmosphere we breathe is cleansed and purified of 
its poisonous malaria by the conflicts of the electrical storm. 

3. The same principle obtains in the perfection of the hu- 
man body. A child is born into this world physically a 
bundle of possibilities. Wonderful capacities of symmetric 
beauty and muscular strength slumber in an infant's bones 
and muscles ; but these latent potentialities can be developed 
into the beauty of an Apollo and the strength of a Hercu- 
les only by exertion, exercise, and contest with physical 
powers. Idleness, ease, and inactivity make dwarfs, not men. 

4. Temporal prosperity is conditioned by the same law. 
Gold does not grow on trees, nor float, ready coined, in the 
crystal stream. It hides deep down in the secret mines of 
nature, and discovers itself only to the earnest toiler. 
Straws swim on the surface, and may be gathered by the 
idler ; but pearls lie on the bottom, and are found only by 
him who braves the perils of the deep. 

5. If now you turn to the human mind, "Tribulation 
the law of development" is written upon every faculty. 
The mind is a vast magazine of capacity, a mighty deposi- 
•tory of possible greatness. It has within itself the possi- 
bilities of all science and philosophy; but its conscious grasp 



Glorying in Tribulation. 8>o 

and possession of all things is attained only through conflict 
and toil. The man whose brain does not sweat with labor, 
who contents himself simply with what he sees and hears, 
may be an idiot or imbecile, but will never be a scholar. 
It is only by grappling with the problems of life that the 
latent royalty of thought is disclosed. As the kite, in or- 
der to rise, must be held in opposition to the wind, so each 
flight of thought, that comes back like Franklin's kite laden 
with a grand discovery, must rise on the wings of opposi- 
tion. Philosophy has her secrets, science hers, nature hers; 
but they are kept under lock and key. They are known 
to him only who forces entrance against the guardian jani- 
tor. The great intellectual men of the world, the philoso- 
phers, scientists, discoverers, and inventors — men who have 
been pioneers in the wilderness of thought, and surveyed 
and engineered the highways of the world's civilization 
— these have not been men for whom life was smooth 
sailing, always tranquil and calm. O no; they have 
been men who have struggled and suffered and fought 
their way against contending odds; men who have known 
the meaning of conflict better than the meaning of ease. 
Wherever you see an intellectually great man— a poet 
who has enshrined immortal thoughts in immortal words, 
a philosopher who has thrown a real light upon the prob- 
lem of life, a scientist who has made a great discovery 
— you will see a man that has had tribulation, that never 
knew what it was simply to float as driftwood on the cur- 
rent of thought. "Genius wears a crown of thorns inher- 
ent and self-woven." A cloud of sadness broods over the 
faces of the profoundest minds. Great souls attract sorrow 
as do lofty mountains the electric thunderbolt of the storm- 
cloud. Indeed, these struggles are necessary to develop la- 
tent power. Ko great character can be complete without 
trial and tribulation. 



Glorying in Tribulation. 



6. If, therefore, conflict be the condition of development 
everywhere else, should we wish the Christian life to be an 
exception? Paul did not. It was because he saw the uses 
of trial to the Christian that he exclaimed in the text, 
' We glory in tribulation!" "When by the Holy Spirit we 
are regenerated, we have Christian experience, but not Chris- 
tian character. Experience must be developed into char- 
acter; and there is not a single element of Christian char- 
acter let down from the skies already finished. Each one 
must be brought forth through struggle with its opposite. 
Tribulation is necessary to draw out these nascent powers of 
experience. If our whole life here was free from effort we 
might develop some of the Christian graces, but there would 
be a hemisphere of spiritual life remaining undiscovered. 
Without suffering, patience would be an unknown virtue; 
without difficulty and trial, we would be strangers to Chris- 
tian resignation; without struggle and weariness, content- 
ment would be only a possible grace of character. It is the 
stroke of tribulation smiting the flinty hardness of the 
heart that brings from the bosom the gushing stream of 
refreshing water. The Christ-light flashes upon the soul 
through the crevices of a broken heart, and the songs of 
victory in heaven are learned in the tearful supplication of 
tribulation on earth. 

7. As another branch of this same argument, I remark 
also that the sufferings of life are the tests of our principles 
and convictions. This seems to be the primary meaning of 
the word "tribulation," which is derived from the Latin 
tribulum, signifying a flail or threshing instrument used to 
separate the straw and chaff from the wheat. Tribulation, 
then, is God's thresher, designed to test the quality of our 
principles and convictions. In earthly associations it is im- 
possible for us to distinguish between friends and foes so 
long as we are great and our influence valuable. It is only 



Glorying in Tribulation. 87 



when misfortune and adversity seize upon us that we dis- 
cover who love us in deed and who in word only. Tribu- 
lation, like a thresher, sweeps away the chaff and leaves 
the sound wheat A smooth sea and fair winds will not 
prove the strength of an ocean vessel. The test comes 
when the fingers of the cyclone, like so many malicious de- 
mons, begin to w T rench its bars and bolts, and to make its 
stoutest timbers groan with pain. It is only the fire that 
determines between the true gold and the dross ; while the 
flames consume the one, they add to the brightness of the 
other. So says the apostle: "Though now for a season, if 
need be, ye are in heaviness through manifold temptations; 
that the trial of your faith, being much more precious than 
of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be 
found unto praise and honor and glory at the appearing of 
Jesus Christ.'" The fire of tribulation is the only test of 
the genuineness of our Christian principles. 

8. At the same time that it tests it also furnishes the oc- 
casion for manifesting reserved power. Suitable occasions 
are necessary for the exhibition of unrevealed strength. 
Head-winds, cyclones, and typhoons supply opportunities 
for the sea-captain to exhibit his nautical skill. Occasions 
are essential also for the revelation of greatness. War is 
necessary to develop great generals. Had it not been for 
the Revolution, Washington might have been known to 
the world only as a good farmer. Political crises are need- 
ed for the manifestation of the highest statesmanship. In- 
soluble problems develop great philosophers. The two 
great poets of the world — Homer and John Milton — were 
totally blind ; the darkness of the external eye became light 
to the internal vision. Mr. Prescott, who wrote "The Con- 
quest of Mexico," never saw Mexico — could not even see the 
paper on which he wrote. Gambassio, the sculptor, could 
not see the marble before him, nor the chisel with which he 



Glorying in Tribulation. 



cut it into bewitching shapes. Many of the poets and 
painters, orators and historians of the world had to strug- 
gle against life-long difficulties, but these difficulties were 
necessary to the manifestation of their inherent genius. It 
is even so in the Christian life. But for the tribulations 
and persecutions through which he passed, we would never 
have had such a sublime example of Christianity as Paul 
the apostle. 

It was the grand opportunities furnished by tribulation 
that gave to the Church the names and memory of the 
Christian martyrs as they were torn by Roman lions or 
used as living torches to light up the darkness of " prophet- 
ic Babylon." Hence sprung Cyprian, Chrysostom, Ambrose, 
Athanasius, and Augustine. Of Martin Luther it has been 
said: "He was a great spirit full armed, a soul clothed with 
strong thunder by the hand of God. Gabriel's spear, John's 
angel's measuring-rod, the cherubs' flaming sword, and Mi- 
chael's shield were his." But had it not been for those 
grand occasions of conflict at Erfurt and at Worms, these 
spiritual weapons would have remained forever sheathed in 
their unseen scabbards. Calvin at Genoa, Zwingle at Zu- 
rich, Latimer and Ridley as they gave their bodies to be 
burned and consecrated the soil of Oxford with their ashes, 
are illustrations of the grandeur and royalty of manhood 
developed by Christian struggle and conflict. Because of 
these grand results in the economy of grace, Paul gloried 
" in tribulations." 

9. Let me also add that tribulations and struggles develop 
within us appreciative enjoyment of present blessings. The 
man who values health is the one who has been racked with 
pain, burned with fever, and tortured with disease. He who 
enjoys peace is the soldier that returns to his home battle- 
scarred from the field of conflict. The victories achieved 
by hard fighting are the ones we really approve. Every 



Glorying in Tribulation. 89 

stroke that a man gives in behalf of his country, every drop 
of blood spilled in its defense, intensifies his patriotic affection, 
The reason why the Southerner loves his land as never be- 
fore is because it has been consecrated by the blood of her 
noblest sons. Because she has suffered does the South ap- 
preciate the immortal words: "A land without ruins is a 
land without memories; a land without memories is a land 
without history. A land that wears a laurel-crown may be 
fair to see; but twine a few sad cypress-leaves around the 
brow of any land, and be that land barren, beautiless, and 
bleak, it becomes lovely in its consecrated coronet of sor- 
row, and it wins the sympathy of heart and of history." So 
it is with the Christian. The tribulations of life sweeten its 
triumphs; its conflicts give appreciation to its victories; its 
weary struggles prepare for the enjoyment of tranquil rest. 
Finally, Paul gloried " in tribulations" because they quali- 
fied the soul for the highest positions of glory in heaven. 
Not those who have shunned the conflicts of life and been 
freed from care and sorrow — the petted and spoiled children 
of fortune here — will be the crowned princes and honored 
heroes in the w T orld to come; but those whom God shall re- 
ward with splendid estates of bliss will be those who suffer 
in patience here and enter heaven wearing the scars of 
many a bloody field of battle. Take your stand beside John 
on the isle of Patmos, as he draws aside the curtain of futu- 
rity and gazes into the other world. Who are those nearest 
the throne of God? Who are those that glisten in the fore- 
front more radiant than the others? Who are those dressed 
in raiment whiter than the sun, "cleansed as no fuller's soap 
could cleanse them?" 

What are these arrayed in white, 
Brighter than the noonday sun, 

Foremost of the sons of light, 
Nearest the eternal throne? 



90 Glorying in Tribulation. 

Not crowned princes of earth, though they be Christians; 
not philosophers, though they be wisest of men; not million- 
aires, though they gave their money to feed the poor; not 
angels and archangels, though they kept inviolate their 
first estate. No: "These are they that have come through 
great tribulation, and have washed their robes and made 
them white in the blood of the Lamb." Therefore are 
they nearest the throne; and they shall hunger no more, 
neither shall they thirst any more, and God shall wipe all 
tears from their eyes. Yes; it will be grander to stand in 
heaven a triumphant victor over sin, powder-burned and 
battle-scarred, than to wear a cherub's crown or sing a 
seraph's song. 

Are there any sufferers here? Take courage; you are 
traveling the King's highway. It is the path your Saviour 
trod. He was "made perfect through suffering." The 
tribulations that come upon you -are not aimless nor acci- 
dental. Sometimes when you follow the track of the storm 
and see the ruins in its wake, sometimes when you look 
upon the heaving ocean and hear the sullen roar of its 
breakers, it seems as if the demon of confusion ruled the 
world; but there is not a spark of electricity nor a wave 
of the sea that is not subject to the law of God. So these 
storms of life are controlled by him. He will at the proper 
time wipe every cloud from the sky, and lift us — redeemed, 
saved, glorified — into the perpetual sunshine and supreme 
radiance of our eternal home. 



Forgiveness and Retribution, 

" Thou wast a God that forgavest them, though thou tookest venge- 
ance of their inventions." (Psalm xcix. 8.) 

IT is hardly necessary for me to explain, though it may be 
well to remind you that the word "vengeance" in the 
text does not mean the same thing in the Bible that it does 
falling from human lips. Among men " vengeance " de- 
notes harm or loss or suffering inflicted upon another from 
feelings of hate or personal malice; as when one man 
wrongs another, and the injured one, full of passionate bit- 
terness, says : "I will wreak my vengeance upon him by 
letting him feel the strength of my hatred." " Vengeance" 
never has such a meaning in the divine use of human 
speech. On the other hand, it signifies the infliction of 
punishment justly due to transgressors. It has the same 
meaning that punishment has in righteous human law — the 
infliction of penalty upon wrong-doers, not from private 
resentment, but for conservation of good government. Its 
import is the equivalent of retributive justice — the retrib- 
uting or recompensing unto the sinner the penalty of his 
sin. That is the meaning of " vengeance." 

But what is the import of the other word in the text — 
"forgiveness?" Everywhere it has but one meaning: the 
remission of penalty, exemption from suffering the punish- 
ment inflicted by righteous law. It is the opposite of retri- 
bution. What, then, is it that the text teaches? It is that 
God forgives men their sins, though he punishes them for 
their evil. Is not this a contradictory procedure? Is it 
not an incongruity to pardon a man, and at the same time 

(91) 



92 Forgiveness and Retribution. 

to punish him? If the governor should pardon a crimi- 
nal sentenced to the penitentiary, would it be consistent to 
compel that convict to continue work in the coal-mines? 
This, apparently, is what the text tells us God does. " Thou 
wast a God that forgavest them, though thou tookest venge- 
ance." Can we reconcile the course of action by saying 
that forgiveness flows from God's love and punishment 
from his justice, and that these two sources of divine 
power are in constant operation upon the pardoned man ? 
I do not think it can be thus ex-plained, from the fact that 
God is a unity. There is no conflict in the divine nature, 
no inconsistency in the action of his attributes. Justice 
and love are one in God. It is true the text, in its phrase- 
ology, expresses an apparent paradox, " Thou forgavest, 
though thou tookest vengeance." But Hebrew scholars say 
that the copula translated here " though " ought to be trans- 
lated " and," so that it would read, " Thou forgavest and 
tookest vengeance," thereby teaching us that forgiveness 
and retribution are parts of one and the same process fol- 
lowing from one and the same source. It is not, therefore, 
a case in which sweet and bitter waters flow from the same 
fountain, but the water is all the same ; and if some tastes 
sweet and some bitter, the difficulty is in the taste, not in 
the water. The doctrine of the text evidently is that re- 
tributive punishment of sin runs parallel with forgiveness 
of sin in the same experience. To ail of our minds there 
is here an ostensible contradiction. How is it to be ex- 
plained ? I think in that we have false notions of forgive- 
ness and of retribution. Let us examine the subject and 
see. 

1. I begin by stating the self-evident fact that we are the 
subjects or citizens of different kinds of government. We are 
environed and bound by different kinds of laws — physical 
laws, organic laws, social laws, and moral or spiritual laws. 



Forgiveness and Retribution. 



Physical laws are those that control insensate matter, as the 
laws of astronomy. Organic law sways empire in organ- 
ized matter, as in trees and animals and human bodies. 
Social laws pertain to human governments of which we are 
all subjects, and which define our duties to each other as 
citizens of some commonwealth. Moral or spiritual law is 
from God, and defines our relations and duties to him. 
These different laws have their own appropriate empires, 
and do not interfere with each other's prerogatives, al- 
though they are but parts of one stupendous whole, the 
complex combination of a grand unity. Hence, it follows 
that we may obey law in one of these departments and en- 
joy its rewards at the same time that we disobey in another 
department and suffer the penalty. A pirate may have 
good health, because of his obedience to the organic laws 
of his body, at the same time that he is accused under so- 
cial and moral law. A Christian, if he falls from a house- 
top or into the sea, will pay the penalty of death at the 
same time that he may be filled with the bliss of obedience 
to moral law. Thus a man may commit arson or murder, 
and God may forgive him; so that, while he is suffering 
the penalty of violated human law, he may be enjoying the 
peace of conscience and heart. We all recognize these dis- 
tinctions as facts illustrated before our eyes every day. 

2. Xow, then, the forgiveness promised to us in the Bi- 
ble on condition of repentance toward God and faith in 
our Lord Jesus Christ is pardon for violation of moral law 
only. It does not touch — except indirectly — physical, hu- 
man, or organic law. After we have remitted unto us the 
penalty of moral law, we must still suffer the penalty of 
any other laws we have violated. These other laws are as 
truly the enactments of God as the moral law. But nc 
atonement has been made for pardon under them. Hence, 
we see how it is possible for God to forgive, and at the same 



94 Forgiveness and Retribution. 

time punish ; to remit the penalty in the domain of moral 
law, and execute it in the domain of physical or organic 
natural law. 

3. But let us go a step farther into our subject. What 
is the penalty of violated law ? It is death. " The soul 
that sinneth, it shall die;" "The wages of sin is death." 
These are scriptural expressions, and refer to moral law; 
but death is also the penalty of physical and organic law. 
If you violate the physical law of gravitation by leaping 
over a precipice, you will pay the penalty of physical death ; 
if you violate the organic law of health by taking poison into 
your system, you will also pay the penalty of death ; but 
in moral law the penalty is spiritual death. We may suf- 
fer one of these deaths and not the other. A man may be 
spiritually dead and yet physically alive. On the other 
hand, God may forgive him and restore him spiritually to 
life, and at the same time not arrest the process of phys- 
ical death going on in his body. 

4. Therefore, in all sin there is a primary and a second- 
ary penalty; or, to express it more accurately, there is one 
true penalty of sin and there are punitive consequences of 
sin. The primary penalty of sin is the wrenching of oui 
dependent souls away from God ; it is the disturbance of our 
relations to him, the separation of our souls from him who 
is our life. Hence, it is spiritual death. The punitive con- 
sequences of our sin are suffering, disorder, natural death. 
Forgiveness covers the primary but not the secondary pen- 
alty; and the primary is far more serious and important, 
though we do not usually think so That which makes sin 
terrible to most people is not the consciousness of guilt 
which it produces, not the separation of the soul from a 
joyful fellowship and communion with God, but it is the 
external suffering, the physical pains that flow indirectly 
from sin, that most of us dread. Our conception of the 



Forgiveness and Retribution. 95 

terribleness of hell is its blackness and darkness and chat- 
tering teeth of pain ; but a deeper penalty of sin than such 
a hell is spiritual death. It is not the confinement of a 
soul in a dungeon, not the burning floor and flaming walls, 
that are most to be dreaded, but the hell within the soul, 
the severance of our natures from the love of God, the 
frown upon our Father's face, are the true and worst pen- 
alties of sin. How is it with you and your child? What 
makes the little face fall and the tears come to the eyes? 
Is it the rod in your hand, or the disapprobation, the trouble 
and rebuke in your face? It is not so much the buffet of 
the rod that makes a child's punishment as the displeasure 
in the parent's heart. And forgiveness is not complete 
when the father pushes the child aside and says, " Go away, 
I shall not punish you ; " but the true forgiveness is when 
he opens his arms and says, " Come, my child, I love you 
still." Not putting up the rod, but taking the child to his 
heart was forgiveness. So it is with the soul and God. 
The true forgiveness is not the removal of the external pen- 
alty, but the removal of the displeasure from the Father's 
heart; not freedom from inflicted punishment, but the re- 
ception of our souls into the bosom of Infinite Love. This 
is the forgiveness promised us through Christ; and its 
enjoyment to the full is perfectly consistent with the puni- 
tive consequences of our sins which have thus been par- 
doned. 

The two sides to the great truth of the text are that the 
primary and deepest penalty of sin, which is separation 
from God and consciousness of guilt, is swept away, while 
the secondary penalty, or consequence of sin, is allowed to 
remain. Thus God forgives at the same time that he takes 
vengeance. 

5. A few historical illustrations will bring out this truth 
with more clearness. Look at the cases of Moses and 



96 Forgiveness and Retribution, 

Aaron, whose names are mentioned in this Psalm. They 
were good and great men — one the leader, the other the 
priest of God's people — yet they suffered penalties on ac- 
count of their transgressions. Both of them were denied 
the great privilege of entering into Canaan because they 
rebelled against the word of God at Meribah. The Lord 
assured them of his forgiveness. Nevertheless, he command- 
ed Aaron to go up and die on Mt. Hor, and afterward 
Moses to ascend Pisgah and die there as his brother Aaron 
had died. Take David's case. He had sinned. " He 
thought his guilt was buried in the grave of the murdered 
Uriah. There was no one in the camp who knew of his 
crime, or, knowing it, presumed to testify against the king. 
In security within the walls of his palace, he could revel 
in the joys of sinful pleasure. But the prophet Nathan 
stood before him and told a tale of wrong. A poor man 
had a ewe-lamb which he had raised as tenderly as one of his 
own children." It was a household pet. A rich man had 
great flocks of sheep ; but when there came a guest within 
his gates to be entertained, instead of" slaying one of his 
thousands he robbed the poor man of his ewe-lamb. David 
was fired with indignation. He said one that would be 
guilty of such an act ought to die. He announced that the 
man should pay the penalty of the Levitical law. That 
law w T as that if a man stole a lamb he should return four- 
fold. As soon as the sentence fell from his lips, Nathan, 
as God's representative, said: "Thou art the man; you 
robbed Uriah ; you had him murdered that you might take 
his ewe-lamb to your own bosom." And David's conscience 
smote him, and his heart condemned him. He confessed 
his sin with tears and penitence, so that God heard and for- 
gave him. And Nathan said: "The Lord also hath put 
away thy sin. Howbeit, because thou hast given by this 
deed great occasion to the enemies of the Lord to bias- 



Forgiveness and Retribution. 97 



pheme, the child shall surely die." God pardoned David ; 
but he had robbed his neighbor of his ewe-lamb, and he 
must pay the fourfold penalty. Did he pay it? Look at 
his child in the agony of disease. In anguish David prayed 
and fasted; but the child died. One lamb paid. But the 
law said, " He shall restore fourfold." David had a daugh- 
ter fair in her maidenly purity. One day her voice was 
heard on the streets in tones of bitter lamentation. Her 
brother Amnon had dishonored her among the maidens of 
Israel. The second lamb was paid. B-ut the law said, 
" Fourfold." Absalom hated Amnon because of his sister's 
wrong, but he kept silence. Two years passed. Uriah 
slept in his grave; the crime of David was fading from 
public memory. Absalom made a feast for his brothers, 
and Amnon was- present. Absalom gave the command, 
and Amnon was slain. The third lamb was taken. But 
the law said, " Fourfold." Absalom blew his trumpet in 
Hebron, and the tribes oi Israel rebelled against David. 
He was a fugitive, and his son his pursuer. A battle was 
fought, and David's army triumphed; but Absalom, his 
son, with his dark sin upon him, died by the hand of Joab. 
The fourth lamb was paid. God pardoned the guilt of 
David, but he nevertheless reaped a harvest from the seed 
he had sown. He illustrated the text: "Thou wast a God 
that forgavest them, though thou tcokest vengeance of their 
inventions." 

6. From this whole subject let us learn, 

(1) That there are penalties of sin for which neither re- 
pentance nor faith nor forgiveness nor the atonement of 
Christ furnishes an indemnity. The great law of the gospel 
as to sowing and reaping is strictly and universally carried 
out. Forgiveness is not its annulment or abrogation. It 
modifies it, and gives it new aspects, but does not repeal it. 
It was to regenerated men Paul said, ( ' Whatsoever a man 
7 



93 Forgiveness and Retribution. 

soweth, that shall he also reap." In his days of sinful 
folly a man may throw away his property. God may for- 
give him ; but forgiveness will not restore his gold nor re- 
cover the wasted estate. Years of dissipation may have 
undermined a vigorous constitution, and created in a man a 
thirst for strong drink that is maddening. Like a leper, 
he may come to God in his unclean-ness, and the Lord may 
forgive his guilt ; but forgiveness will not make the rose of 
health blossom on his faded cheek nor quench his thirst for 
drink. The debauchee may "pluck the flower of purity 
from the maiden's brow, and set a blister there." He may 
be forgiven by God; but forgiveness will not restore for- 
feited virtue nor lift from his name the disgrace of his deed. 
Man may murder his fellow-man, and Christ may forgive 
his guilt, as he was willing to forgive his own murderers; 
but that will not bring back the dead man from his grave 
nor dry his widow's tears. God may be merciful to the 
gray-haired veteran in sin; but mercy will not recall the 
years he has wasted, nor the opportunities he has lost, nor 
the evil he has done. A father in old age may turn to God 
and repent and be forgiven ; but pardon will not check the 
growth of seeds sown by his bad example in the hearts of 
his children as they reap the whirlwind of moral ruin. 
Yes, running parallel with the crystal waters of forgiveness 
through the soul is the stream ot retributive justice, taking 
vengeance of our sins. If you waste your youth, no par- 
don will send the shadow back upon the dial, nor recover 
the ground lost by idleness, nor bring back the fleeting op- 
portunities; if you forget God, and live without him until 
the noon or evening of life, you cannot obliterate the mem- 
ory of misused years, nor the deep marks which they have 
left upon your thought, taste, habit, and imagination. 
Some of you, it may be, during the late war, were pierced 
by the enemy's bullets, or struck and gashed by his sword. 



Forgiveness and Retribution. 99 



The surgeon healed the wounds, but the sears you will 
carry with you into your graves. So it is with sin. We 
may bring our souls to the Great Physician torn and Weed- 
ing from the conflict, and with spiritual lancet and band- 
ages, and balm and anodyne, he may heal the wounds; but 
the scars will remain forever. God forgives; but forgive- 
ness does not interrupt the flow of retributive justice along 
the channels of inexorable natural law. 

(2) There is one other aspect of this subject that gives 
me a startling view of the terribleness of sin. That is: it 
sows in our souls the seeds of a harvest of eternal regret. 
Memory will go with us to the spirit-world. We shall never 
forget the irreversible past of our earthly existence. We 
shall see that our sins crippled our spiritual powers, robbed 
us of moral grandeur, and injured our capacities for great- 
est glory in heaven. Peter cannot forget that he denied 
Christ, and he cannot remember it without regret. So with 
us. God may have forgiven us for our sins against him, 
but even in heaven there will be the vengeance of regret 
in the midst of our happiness. But canfi man be happy 
while his soul is full of regret? Yes. Was not the prod- 
igal happy when he returned home? yet, did he not re- 
member with regret his past record? So " in the house not 
made with hands" we shall be happy; but if we sin in 
this life, even though God forgives, there will be the pun- 
ishment of regret. This will be one of the differences be- 
tween the joy of the unsinning angels and the joy of re- 
deemed sinners. Theirs will be the bliss of unforfeited 
innocency; ours that of innocency restored through the 
forgiveness of Christ. We will have a joy unknown to 
them — the joy of pardoned sin ; but they will have a joy un- 
known to us — the joy of innocence that needed no forgive- 
ness. Their bosoms can never be disturbed by sighs of re- 
gret. What a terrible thing is sin! Its touch — its slight- 



100 Forgiveness and Retribution. 

est touch — leaves a stain on our souls that even the blood 
of Christ cannot altogether erase. The guilt may be ef : 
faced, but the blot of regret will be there through eternity. 
In conclusion, let me say that, although forgiveness does 
not remove all the punitive consequences of sin, it does mod- 
ify them. Sickness and sorrow, pain and affliction — these 
are secondary penalties of sin ; yet they have a different 
meaning to the forgiven man and to the unfor»iven. Par- 
don takes from them their punitive aspect, transforms them 
into chastisements, and assures us that though the conse- 
quences of guilt continue, they remain for our good, and 
as warnings against sin. Natural death is a punitive con- 
sequence of sin ; yet how greatly modified, though not re- 
moved by forgiveness! To the unforgiven man death is the 
greatest enemy — the dissolution of all his fair dreams into 
nothingness, the utter extinction of every star of hope in 
his sky, the fearful plunge of his soul into the bottomless 
abyss of hell. But to the forgiven man, though God takes 
this " vengeance" of death " of his inventions," yet how is 
the nature of <leath changed! Its sting is extracted, its 
repulsiveness all gone. It is simply the usher appointed to 
conduct his soul into glory, the messenger of God sent to 
liberate his tired spirit from its earthly bondage and invest 
it with the freedom of the universe; it is only the weighing 
of the anchor, that the forgiven soul may set sail on its 
eternal voyage over the unruffled, crystal sea of immortal 
glory. 



The Tower-builder, 



''For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down 
first, and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it? 
Lest haply, after he hath laid the foundation, and is not able to fin- 
ish it, all that behold it begin to mock him, saying, This man began 
to build, and was not able to finish." (Luke xiv. 23-30.) 

WHEjS" our Saviour stood before the world as a teacher sent 
from- God, he held a crown in his right-hand and in 
his left a cross. The cross was the price of the crown; any 
one might wear the crown of reward who first bore the cross 
of service. He never tried to win the people to him by ex- 
hibiting only the crown and concealing the cross. In this 
he differed from human teachers and leaders of men. They 
often raise false expectations, not by direct falsehood, but 
by concealment of the truth. When political leaders de- 
sire to carry the suffrages of the people in favor of certain 
men or measures, they picture in glowing colors the advan- 
tages to be gained, but thrust into the background all dis- 
advantages. They present only half truths. Our Saviour 
never deceived, nor exhibited only one side of a question. 
When he saw that men were deceiving themselves, he un- 
deceived them. On one occasion, when a young man, ex- 
cited by the miracles of Christ, came running to him, and 
said, " I have left all to follow thee," our Saviour opened 
his eyes by saying: "Foxes have holes, birds of the air 
have nests, but I, the Son of man, have not where to lay 
my head." Christ saw that the young man's eyes were 
fixed only upon the crown while he saw not the cross of 
discipleship. At this point is apparent the great difference 

(101) 



102 The Tower-builder 



between sin and Christianity. Sin promises pleasure, and 
praise of men, and happiness. It paints in beautiful colors 
the enjoyments of self-indulgence — dancing, theater-going, 
and dissipation ; but it conceals from the eyes of its vota- 
ries the final issues of such a life — sorrow, satiety, disap- 
pointment, death, and hell. Christianity conceals nothing. 
It tells you that it is a grand thing to be a Christian ; that 
Christian character is a great attainment; and that its re- 
wards of joy and glory are transcendent. But it does not 
hide from you the fact that these possessions will cost you 
something. It shows you a splendid crown, but at the same 
time assures you that the cross you must bear to attain it is 
heavy. To be a Christian is no slight undertaking. It in- 
volves what human nature regards enormous sacrifices and 
great self-denial, and I would warn you against any sect or 
denomination that would try to win your confidence by the 
promise of religion made easy. A Church that offers to 
you a religion of crowns without crosses, a religion of re- 
wards without self-denial, a religion half Christly and half 
worldly, is not a Church of Christ. It was precisely against 
this idea that Jesus was warning the world when he used 
the illustration of the tower-builder in the text. "Here is a 
man who wants to build a great tower, and who actually 
determines to build; but he loses sight of the cost of the 
enterprise. He does not sit down and make a close calcu- 
lation as to the expense of building, and then see whether 
he has sufficient resources for the undertaking; but he be- 
gins to build — lays the foundation, and starts the super- 
structure — when, alas! he discovers that his attempt is a 
failure for want of capital. And as men pass by and look 
upon the unfinished building, they laugh at his folly, ridi- 
cule his short-sightedness, mock at his want of business 
sense, and say, " This man began to build, but was not able 
to finish." So it is, our Saviour tenches us, with those who 



The Tower-builder. 103 



undertake the Christian life with superficial estimates of its 
requirements. They start well, and inspire hope; but they 
fail to count the cost, and so their life-work is incomplete, 
and ends in failure. 

1. In this illustration Christ does not condemn the tower- 
builder for the ideal structure he projected; it was worthy 
of him. As it existed in his imagination, it was a grand 
monument, a splendid edifice, well calculated to awaken his 
energies, arouse his feelings, and stir his activities, thereby 
teaching us that the ideal of Christian character set forth 
in the gospel, and floating through our quickened con- 
sciences, is a grand ideal. It is the grandest of all ideals. 
The ideal poet or artist, or philosopher or scientist, or states- 
man or hero, is not worthy to be compared with the ideal 
Christian. Simply as visions of possible attainment, they 
cannot kindle such a fire of enthusiasm in the heart as the 
Christian ideal. It is perfect in beauty, in glory, in grand- 
eur; instinct with divine life, and radiant with divine 
light. 

2. Neither does our Saviour condemn the architect of 
the text for his design or purpose to give expression to his 
ideal in an actual tower. It was not a shanty or log-house, 
not a cottage, not an ordinary structure he proposed to 
erect, but a sumptuous edifice. The idea here conveyed to 
our minds is that Christian character is a great spiritual 
tower, or building. It is the exponent of greater skill than 
the Tower of Pisa ; it is the expression of greater architect- 
ural beauty than the Tower of London, or the temple of St. 
Paul's, or the dome of St. Peter's ; and it is the embodi- 
ment of greater solidity, strength, and durability than the 
pyramids of Ejypt. Indeed, I may say there is nothing so 
great in this world as Christian character. It is an invisi- 
ble building to the natural eye, but an invisible structure 
greater than the visible. He who attempts, therefore, to 



104 The Tower-builder. 

build a Christian character undertakes a great enterprise, 
one approved of God and commanded by Christ. 

3. Another thing praiseworthy in the man of the text is, 
he began right. He began with the foundation, and sought 
a good foundation. He appreciated the fact that such a 
tower as he designed to erect must have a granite basis. If 
he built on sand, the floods would sweep away the founda- 
tion, and his building would crumble into ruins. Are we 
not thus taught that the tower of Christian character must 
be built upon a strong foundation? In all kinds of archi- 
tecture this consideration is important. The durability, 
the permanency, the safety, the value of the edifice hinge 
largely on the foundation. How much more important in 
spiritual architecture, in what we are not building for time 
but for eternity! If the foundation of the London Tower 
should give way, there might be a loss in pounds and shil- 
lings; but if the foundation of character gives way, an im- 
mortal spirit is lost and ruined world without end. You 
cannot have forgotten how our Saviour, the greatest of 
preachers, in the peroration of his sermon on the mount — 
the subject of which was character— stresses, emphasizes, 
and illustrates the necessity of a solid foundation. It was 
the fool who erected his house on the sand ; the wise man 
built upon a rock. The superstructure of the tower may 
be made of the same material, yet when the rains descend, 
and the winds blow, and the demons of the storm put 
their shoulders against them, the one resting on a sandy 
foundation will fall, while the one built upon a rock will 
stand. 

What is the foundation of Christian character? Thunk 
God, we ourselves are not required to lay it! "Other 
foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Je- 
sus Christ." Not a system of truth springing from Christ, 
but Christ himself in us is the granite foundation of Chris- 



The Tower-builder. 105 



tian character. Many are making a fatal mistake at this 
point. They are building towers of hope that have no oth- 
er foundations than unregenerate hearts; they are building 
upon chance, or Church-membership, or water baptism, or 
priestly absolution, or a death-bed repentance — foundations 
of sand, every one of them. While the sky is clear and 
the night of death is far off, and the cloud of wrath is 
unseen on the distant horizon, these foolish builders feel se- 
cure; but O when the storm comes that tests foundations, 
where will they appear ? When the great traveler Baron 
Humboldt was journeying in South America, there came 
one day a sudden stillness in the air, a hush over all nature ; 
but that stillness was soon broken by a fearful convulsion 
of the earth that made every heart quake. Humboldt says 
the earthquake in his own soul was as great as that in nat- 
ure. Where should he fly for safety? He looked to the 
trees, but they were falling ; he looked to the houses, but 
they were crumbling; he looked to the mountains, but they 
were reeling like drunken men ; he looked to the sea, but 
lo ! it had fled — ships a moment before floating on its sur- 
face were rocking in the sand. Almost in despair, he looked 
up, and observed that the eternal heavens, and they alone, 
were calm and unshaken. So each of us — all of us — will 
feel some day. A moral earthquake will strike its ponder- 
ous hammers against a spiritual universe. Sandy founda- 
tions of character will be crumbling ; but while all else is 
reeling, they who have built on Jesus Christ will be as 
calm and unmoved as the pillars of the eternal throne; 
they shall abide forever. This is the only foundation on 
which we can afford to build the tower of Christian char- 
acter. 

4. And now we reach the point at which the man of the 
text failed. He did not count the cost of such a founda- 
tion. It is here also that many of us halt and draw back. 



106 The Toiver-bullder. 



It cost God an immense expenditure to lay the foundation. 
It costs us something to possess it as a basis of character. 
It will cost us the bitterness of repentance, the humiliation 
of a public confession of sin. Many are anxious to have 
their character rest upon the foundation Christ Jesus, but 
are unwilling to pay the price. To have conscience hold 
before us the dark catalogue of our sins, to be conscious of 
self-condemnation and divine censure, to moan in secret 
over guilt and confess to the world our wickedness, is not a 
delightful process. " If I could leap over this experience, 
and step upon the solid foundation, I would do it," many 
persons say. But that is impossible. There is no other 
avenue along which the soul may come to the rock of ages 
than through repentance and confession and faith. 

5. But when we have paid the price of laying the foun- 
dation, our work is not finished. That is necessary, but the 
superstructure must also be built. Paul tells us that if any 
build upon this foundation, "the fire shall try every man's 
work of what sort it is." Only those elements of character 
symbolized by gold, silver, and precious stones will stand 
the test, and these are costly materials. Every Christian, 
therefore, ought to sit down as a wise man intending to 
build a tower, and study the superstructure to be erected, 
estimate the cost, and then throw every resource of his com- 
plex nature into the work. 

Building Christian character is the most expensive and 
difficult business in which men can engage. It must be 
done as Nehemiah rebuilt the crumbled walls of Jerusalem. 
His enemies were so determined to defeat his noble enter- 
prise that he tells us each one of his laborers with one hand 
wrought in the work and with the other hand held his 
weapon, while his sword was girded about his loins. To 
build under such circumstances costs more than one less de- 
termined than Nehemiah is willing to pay; and yet all of 



The Tower-builder. 107 



his enemies were Outside the walls, while we have foes both 
outside aud inside the walls of the soul. The world and 
the devil are on the outside, and our depraved passions and 
affections and lusts are inside. To build successfully it will 
cost us, first, complete self-abnegation. 

(a) I want to impress it upon each heart that building 
the tower of Christian character will cost self-denial ; not 
simply the giving up of this indulgence or that, but a com- 
plete renunciation of all sin and the denial of your own 
will as the sovereign ruler of your destiny. Let me read 
to you what our Saviour says immediately preceding and 
succeeding the words of the text: "If any man come to 
me, and hate not his father and mother, and wife and chil- 
dren, and brethren and sisters, yea, and his own life also, 
he cannot be my disciple." Does Christ mean that we are 
actually to hate our dearest friends? No; he means that 
our abnegation of self is to be so complete that no principle 
of affection or tie of blood shall intervene between us and 
duty. Then directly following the text he says: "So like- 
wise, whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he 
hath, he cannot be my disciple." That is the price; and 
unless you are willing to pay it, the world will laugh at 
your weak and unfinished character as it laughed at the 
tower-builder. Listen to what Christ says in another place 
touching self-denial as the cost of character: "If thy right- 
hand offend, cut it off; if thine eye offend, pluck it out; 
if thy foot offend, cut it off." Better go armless, eyeless, 
and on crutches into heaven than to have your whole 
bodies cast into hell. 

(b) But renunciation is not all ; that must be reenforced 
by consecration of ourselves to Christ. The reason why 
INehemiah succeeded in rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem 
was because his men, we are told, " had a mmd to work." 
They were consecrated to the enterprise. Whenever you 



The Tower-builder 



find men so determined on building that they are willing to 
work with one hand and grasp the sword in the other from 
sunrise until the stars appear, you may be sure they will 
succeed. Consecration is the law of success in building 
Christian character. It is a part of the cost of the under- 
taking. It requires effort to lay ourselves as sacrifices upon 
God's altar. It will cost us the crucifixion of the carnal 
nature, many a heart-pang and disappointment, the aban- 
donment of indulgences dear and sweet to us; but if we in- 
tend to build for God and eternity, this is the price we must 
pay. 

G. Hence, you see the secret of so many unfinished tow- 
ers of character in the world. The Church is full of them : 
men and women who started to build, who had good foun- 
dations, who began to rear the superstructure, but there 
stand the unfinished and roofless walls as monuments of 
failure. This is the explanation of the fraud and dishon- 
esty sometimes committed by men who stand high in Chris- 
tian Churches. They began to build, but did not first esti- 
mate the cost. Young men and women unite with the 
Church and begin the construction of spiritual edifices, but 
very soon abandon them, and are seen spending their time 
in dissipation and seeking for pleasure in worldly amuse- 
ments. What is the matter? They neglected to count the 
cost of building. When they saw that self-denial and con- 
secration were the price of Christian character, they were 
either unable or unwilling to pay it, and so gave it up. 

(a) What are the consequences of failure in building 
character? Taking the illustration of the text, we see, first, 
loss. All the brain-work, anxiety of heart, labor, and cap- 
ital that the man put into his tower was so much loss. A 
foundation with walls a few inches high was of no use for 
any thing. Failure to finish worked a complete forfeiture 
of his investment. It is even so in character. If a person 



The Tower-builder. 109 



succeeds by regeneration in getting on the rock of ages as a 
foundation, and fails to finish his character, he loses all that 
he had gained. Peter tells us that man's second estate is 
worse than the first. "Better," says he, "not to have 
known the way of righteousness than, after they have 
known it, to turn from the holy commandment." 

(b) But personal loss is not the only thing we suffer 
through incompletion of character. We must endure also 
the mortification of failure. When our Saviour delivered 
the text, I think he must have had before his mind's eye the 
builders of the Tower of Babel. They expected to erect a 
shaft whose base would rest upon the earth and whose sum- 
mit would pierce the eternal heavens. What must have 
been their chagrin when, by the confusion of tongues, the 
.grand enterprise collapsed ! What must have been the feel- 
ings of the man of the text when one day he sat down and 
contemplated what he had done! He looked at the plan 
of his tower, and then looked at the Avails uncompleted. 
Money all gone, time gone, work of brain and muscle lost ; 
nothing to show for it except this useless pile of brick. O 
the depth and agony of his mortification ! Horace Greeley 
died, as you know, very soon after his defeat for the presi- 
dency of the United States, and it was said by those who 
knew him best that the humiliation of failure broke his 
health and heart. In the newspapers, almost every day, 
you may read of commercial men who commit suicide be- 
cause of mortification at their want of success in business 
enterprises. What, then, should be our feelings when we 
begin to build characters for eternity and abandon them 
when half completed? O ye worldly-minded Christians, 
whose names are in the Church but whose hearts are in 
your business or in sinful pleasures, look at the unfin- 
ished condition of your characters! Does no feeling of 
mortification seize you, no blush of shame mantle the 



110 The Tower-builder. 

cheeks of your consciences, no sense of disgrace pain your 
hearts ? 

(c) But the man of the text would have found some re- 
lief if he could have concealed his unfinished tower from 
the world. This he could not do, however ; and in addition 
to his loss and mortification, he had to suffer the mockery 
of the world. It is said that all they that passed by and 
beheld the uncompleted builr'ing began to mock the tower- 
builder, saying, "This man began to build, and was not 
able to finish." The world taunted him with his failure. 
That is exactly the way the world does us. When a mem- 
ber of the Church goes into a bar-room and calls for a 
drink, the bar-keeper gives it to him and takes his money; 
but as he passes out of the door wiping his lips, he points 
toward him and says, "That man began to build, but was 
not able to finish." And there is a big laugh at his expense. 
"When worldlings see Christians at the theater, or in ball- 
rooms, or moving all earth to make money, and sacrific- 
ing religious duty upon the altar of Mammon, they mock- 
ingly say, "Those men and women began to build, but 
were not able to finish." So the world chuckles, and hell 
laughs at our failures. 

7. It seems to me I hear some sinner congratulate him- 
self upon the fact that he has never begun to build ; there- 
fore, he is safe from the world's mockery. But, ray friend, 
it will cost you more to go to hell than it will to go to heav- 
en. You are not willing to pay the price of self-denial to 
go to heaven, then you must deny yourself of heaven to go 
to hell. Which is the greater price? You say you will 
not lose the pleasure of self-indulgence in sin; if you do 
not, you must suffer the loss of manhood and the pains cf a 
guilty conscience. Which is the greater price? You can 
live on in sin, you may refuse to lay one brick on the tow- 
er of Christian character, but you must pay the price of 



The Tower-builder. Ill 



seeing at last every star of hope in your sky go out. We are 
necessarily builders of character. Will you build for heav- 
en or hell? 

I will conclude by asking you — all of you — this question : 
Is Christian character worth the price which Almighty God 
has put upon it? Sir Isaac Newton became a great scholar. 
He walked at his will along the stellar avenues of the blue 
sky, and worshiped God within the grand temple of astron- 
omy. But to be able to do it cost him years of patient 
thought and profound study. Ask him, as he holds the 
great law of gravitation firmly in his intellectual grasp, if 
scholarship is worth the price he has paid for it. Colum- 
bus endured hardships and braved the storms upon the 
ocean, but as the faint outlines of the North American con- 
tinent were first seen, ask him if his great discovery was 
worth the price he paid for it. But what is the discovery 
of a new world in astronomy or on earth compared with 
the immortal glory which shall reward the builder of Chris- 
tian character? 

The Tower of London, as you know, stands upon the 
bank of the Thames, and is a vast assemblage of buildings 
covering thirteen acres of ground, and is the repository of 
the crown-jewels of England. But how much grander and 
more glorious is that tower which the Christian is building 
who first counts the cost and then determines to pay the 
price! When the material universe shall have been burned 
to ashes, it will be seen standing on the bank of the river 
of life. Its architectural proportions, its grace and beauty, 
shall be the wonder of angels and archangels; its spires 
shall be tipped with the golden light of heaven; its win- 
dows smitten by the radiance of the unsetting sun ; the 
fresco that adorns its walls will be Holy Ghost touches; 
the pictures that hang in its chambers will be spiritual 
graces; while through all eternity it shall be the repository 



112 The Tower-builder. 



of the crown-jewels of infinite love, infinite bliss, eternal 
communion with God. Is the tower of Christian char- 
acter worth the cost? Ask Peter, Stephen, Paul, and 
John, as they to-night enjoy the rewards of finished char- 
acter. 



Paul's Sermon Before Felix, 



"As he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to 
come, Felix trembled, and answered, Go thy way fortius time; when 
I have a convenient season, I will call for thee." (Acts xxiv. 25.) 

TWO kinds of greatness are possible to man. The one is 
the greatness of external possessions; the other of in- 
ternal consciousness. The one consists of what we have — 
wealth, authority, rank ; the other of what we are — dispo- 
sition, character. 

There are also two kinds of royalty. The one consists 
of a visible crown, imperial robes, and kingly scepter; the 
other of a regal mind, an imperial conscience, and a kingly 
heart. The one is the royalty of blood, the other the 
royalty of manhood; the one is hereditary, the other is 
the gift of God through Jesus Christ upon human effort. 
But no amount of external royalty constitutes a great man. 
A great intellect, a great conscience, a.great heart, " rooted 
and grounded " in great thoughts, great principles, and 
great motives — these are the elements of true greatness. 

These two types of greatness and royalty confront each 
other in the text. The one is represented by Felix, the 
procurator of Judea ; the other by Paul, the prisoner in 
bonds. The Roman governor is anxious to hear Paul, we 
are told, " concerning the faith in Christ." In company 
with his wife, Drusilla, Felix repairs to the splendid judg- 
ment-hall of Herod. Assembled also, doubtless, are many 
other lords and ladies to hear this remarkable prisoner. 
Paul entered the audience-room, and, with his right-hand 
bound to the right-hand of a Roman soldier, he delivered 
8 (113} 



114 Paul's Sermon Before Felix. 

his message. The text is an analysis of his sermon: "As 
he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judgment 
to come," etc. 

Paul was speaking to an intelligent audience, and he 
adapted his discourse to his hearers. The text tells us that 
" he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judgment 
to come." His discussion did not consist of dogmatic state- 
ments, extravagant assertions, and unrealizable theories. 
He addressed himself to the reason of his hearers. He 
recognized that faculty as man's highest attribute, as the 
monarch of the mind. He knew that reason was man's 
badge of superiority to all earthly creatures, and his seal 
of majesty over material forces. It is this that makes him, 
though a " speck on the world," greater than the w r orld. 
It is by virtue of this endowment that he is able to study 
God's works and comprehend his revelations. And Paul 
employed this faculty on this occasion to show that the re- 
ligion he represented was the offspring of the Infinite rea- 
son ; that in its magnificent sweep ^t did not contain a soli- 
tary principle or requirement repugnant to the enlightened 
mind. What Paul teaches all ages here is that Christian- 
ity invites the severest test of critical thought, provided it 
be candid and ingenuous. Whenever a human mind re- 
pudiates the religion of Christ on the ground that it pro- 
mulgates doctrines contrary to reason, that mind is either 
ignorant of Christianity or wanting in intellectual thought. 
True, some doctrines are articles of faith that are above rea- 
son; but there is an immense difference between a truth 
being above reason and contrary to reason. Some princi- 
ples of Christianity are so deep and wide that human rea- 
son cannot sound their depth nor trace their horizon. But 
that fact does not argue that they are unreasonable. You 
stand upon the shore and look out upon the ocean: the 
water and horizon seem to meet at a distance comparatively 



Paul's Sermon Before Felix. 115 

a few miles away ; but you do not therefore conclude that the 
ocean is only a score of miles wide. It seems so because 
of the limitation of the visual organ. So in the great 
ocean of revealed truth the limitation of the visual capac- 
ity of reason prevents us from comprehending some doc- 
trines; but we must not, on this account, conclude that they 
are repugnant to reason. 

Paul therefore "reasoned" before his intelligent audi- 
ence, illustrated practically its office in relation to religion, 
and made an application of it by taking up three great 
doctrines of religion and pressing them upon the consciences 
of his hearers. 

1. In the first place, he reasoned of righteousness. In 
the selection of this first topic, we see how intensely per- 
sonal and practical was Paul's preaching. In the verse 
preceding the text it is said Felix sent for Paul to hear 
him " concerning the faith in Christ " — that is, he wanted to 
hear an exposition of the new faith, its relation to Judaism 
and Roman theology. He did not wish any personal ap- 
plication to himself, but a finished argument. But instead 
of that, Paul addressed himself not to the wishes but to the 
needs of his auditors. Many hearers are like Felix. "Not 
quite so personal, if you please," they say to the minister. 
" We want you to talk about the grandeur and triumphs 
of the gospel, and the final victory of good over evil." But 
such preaching generally is " love's labor lost." The ob- 
ject of preaching is to persuade men to lead holy lives; 
and in order to produce this effect, it must be personal. 
When the prophet Nathan pictured to David the wicked- 
ness and meanness of a certain crime, David was stirred 
with wrath, and said a man guilty of such an act deserved 
to die. But when Nathan said, " Thou art the man," David 
turned red in the face, and changed his mind. So to-day 
if I should point out the blackness of Jewish guilt in cru- 



110 Paul's Sermon Before Felix. 

cifying Christ, and tell of God's punishment of their sin, 
you would say, " He served them right." But if I should 
say that you who refuse to accent the Saviour, and who 
love the world more than you love Christ, crucify your 
Lord afresh and " put him to an open shame," you would 
say, " That is altogether a different matter." Paul selected 
the subject of righteousness because it was personal. Tac- 
itus tells us tha + . Felix was unrighteous, " by birth a slave, 
but the freedman of Claudius." He was guilty of great 
cruelty, exercised the power of a king in the spirit of a 
slave, and murdered the man through whose influence he 
was elected to office. His whole object was to make money 
at whatever sacrifice of the right. He even tried to swindle 
Paul out of the little the people had given him with which 
to relieve his wants. He was a man of low ambition, with- 
out principle, and without regard for justice. With a full 
knowledge of these facts, Paul reasoned upon righteousness, 
or justice. If Paul could rise from the dead and stand in 
our pulpits to-day, would he not still reason of righteous- 
ness? We may not be guilty of the same acts of unright- 
eousness of which Felix w r as guilty; but as to the great 
principle of righteousness, are we innocent? Righteous- 
ness may be regarded as we regard a human being — as hav- 
ing a body and a soul. A righteous heart, pure and holy, 
is the soul of righteousness ; and right action or conduct h 
the body of righteousness. Internal righteousness pertains 
to our relations to God; external righteousness to our re- 
lations to man. Nothing but the blood of Christ applied 
to our conscience by the Holy Ghost can make us righteous. 
If, therefore, we are still in our sins, we are in the same 
category with Felix. How is it with reference to your con- 
duct? In your business transactions, in your dealings one 
with another, in your estimates of character, do you abide 
by the golden rule? Do you " do unto others as you would 



Paul's Sermon Before Felix. 117 

that they should do unto you?" That is righteousness. 
All variations from that rule make unrighteousness. What 
does conscience say as to your individual case? Does it 
plead guilty, or not guilty ? This is a serious question. The 
righteous enter heaven; the unrighteous are banished to 
hell. 

2. The second topic of Paul's sermon was temperance. 
We must not understand temperance here to mean only ab- 
stinence from strong drink. It does mean that; but it 
means more. The primary meaning of the word is self- 
control, self-government, self-mastery — especially the soul's 
mastery and control over the body. It means that the 
spirit governs the appetites and lusts of the body — not that 
the body governs the spirit. And here Paul was getting 
very close to his hearers. Drusilla, Felix's third wife, had 
another and living husband, whom she had deserted. The 
best and most beautiful thing God ever made is a good 
woman; the ugliest and worst thing the devil ever made is 
a mean woman. The devil made a grand success in Dru- 
silla. For the sake of shining in royal society she sold the 
priceless gem of pure and spotless womanhood, and deserted 
her lawful husband. If Paul had been a policy man, he 
would not have touched upon temperance — the soul's mas- 
tery of the body — before this audience; but with a desire 
to save only, and fearless of consequences, he uncovered 
kingly and queenly crime. In some form we arc all guilty 
of intemperance. The man who drinks is not the only in- 
temperate man. We violate the great principle in eating, 
in dressing, in amusements. Whenever a man pays more 
attention to body than soul, whenever he neglects his spir- 
itual for his physical well-being, he is guilty of intemper- 
ance. Why this mighty struggle for money? why your 
heads prematurely gray — faces wrinkled and scarred before 
the time? Intemperance. Let me reason with you to-day. 



118 Paul's Sermon Before Felix. 



Be temperate. Do not sacrifice your soul's interest for 
eternity for the sake of a perishing body. Paul thus pleaded 
before Felix and Drusilla. But what cared they for right- 
eousness and temperance so long as they were wrapped in 
purple robes and protected by kingly power? 

3. So he takes up the third principle. He reasoned also 
of judgment to come. It seems to me I can see a brighter 
light kindled in Paul's eye as he announced this great truth, 
and the veins in his brow begin to swell, and the chains to 
rattle upon the floor, shaken by the mighty thoughts that 
make his body tremble with emotion. O Felix, the judg- 
ments you have rendered from your throne shall be re- 
viewed by a higher tribunal! The gaudy trappings of of- 
fice have shielded you in your unrighteousness; the pomp 
and pageantry of power have defended your intemperance; 
but there is coming a day when, stripped of your purple 
and separated from your royal splendor, your soul shall 
stand naked in the presence of the Eternal Judge. He 
cannot be influenced by earthly position. Character will 
be the basis and ground of his irreversible decisions. This 
"judgment to come," Felix, will be the day of days. No 
imagination can conceive of its terrible splendors. The 
pomp and paraphernalia of the Roman crown and throne 
dwindle into nothingness as compared with the grandeur 
and majesty of Almighty God on his judgment-seat. The 
light of the sun shall be quenched in total darkness, the 
heavens shall be rolled together as a scroll, the continents 
shall reel, mountains and islands shall be removed from 
their places, the physical universe shall stagger like a 
drunken man — ay, as a tree shaken when the fruit is ripe, 
so God shall shake the tree of creation, and sun, stars, and 
moon will fall from the heavens. The great and small 
shall be there, and stand before God in judgment. The 
murderer, with his soul dripping with blood, shall be there; 



Paul's Sermon Before Felix. . 119 

the oppressor, steeped in his guilt; the midnight assassin, 
aghast and terrified; the robber, with his ill-gotten gains 
rising up as witnesses against him ; the deceiver, with the 
mask snatched from his face, revealing his hypocrisy ; the 
adulterer, blackened by the darkest of crimes, with his 
victims gazing upon him with accusing faces* — must be 
there. Not only so, but kings and queens, who covered 
sin with purple robes, shall also stand before God on that 
day. Felix's head begins to swim, his throne to reel. 
Paul's supernatural oratory has raised the roof, and the 
Governor of Judea sees himself in the presence of the 
Eternal Judge. 

The wdiole scene changes in Herod's judgment-hall. The 
royalty of gospel truth has conquered the royalty of the 
throne; the prisoner is transformed into the judge, and the 
judge into the prisoner; the tent-maker rises above the 
king. Felix begins to " tremble " like a culprit awaiting 
his death-warrant, like a prisoner when from his cell he 
hears the hammer driving the nails to erect his own gallows; 
like the benighted traveler w T hen a flash of lightning re- 
veals him standing upon the verge of an awful precipice; 
like a man awakened from sleep on the edge of a volcanic 
crater by rumbling fires beneath him. Conscience is stirred 
in the bosom of the governor, and, like an aroused giant, 
is demanding retribution for sin. 

This is Felix's opportunity for salvation. He is under 
deep conviction of sin. Paul stands before him as Christ's 
embassador, beseeching him, " Be thou reconciled to God." 
Two pictures rise before the agonized soul of Felix. If he 
repents of his sins, embraces the religion offered by Paul, 
and becomes a Christian, he must lose his present office, 
dismiss his paramour, restore the money he has fraudulent- 
ly gained, come down from the throne, strip himself of his 
official purple, become an object of jest and ridicule to his 



120 Paul's Sermon Before Felix. 



Roman compeers, and live a life of self-denial unto death ; 
but in the eternal future intellectual grandeur, spiritual 
nobility, heart royalty, a white robe of purity, the tuneful 
harp, the choral psalm, the sparkling crown, the waving 
palm. That is one picture. On the other hand, if he re- 
fuse, to become a Christian, he may still enjoy his debauch- 
ery, still retain his governorship, still revel in his dissipa- 
tions, and die at last amid the splendors of royalty and 
wealth ; but after death, the worm that never dies, the 
fire that never goes out, agony, remorse, eternal death. 
That is the other picture. Which will he choose? He 
trembles as he gazes first upon this, and then upon that. 
The Holy Ghost whispers, "Listen to Paul;" the devil 
advises, ''Turn a deaf ear;" conscience entreats, "Accept 
Christ now; " inclination says, " Live on in sin, and repent 
to-morrow." The battle rages within. Behold, he has de- 
cided! Is it for Christ and heaven? " Go thy way for 
this time; when I have a convenient season, I 'will call for 
thee." In one step of salvation, and lost! The convenient 
time neve" came. Paul was never sent for again. Felix 
lived on in sin, died without Christ, and is now reaping the 
harvest of an ill-spent life.' 

In conclusion, there are two or three lessons for us in the 
decision of Felix. 

I. Conviction of sin is not salvation. Felix was thor- 
oughly convinced, deeply conscious of his sinfulness, but 
there the process ended. His will did not go out into exec- 
utive choice. And until a man wills to yield to his con- 
victions, he cannot be saved from sin. There are many in 
our day who stand where Felix stood. They feel the force 
of God's truth, they confess that they need salvation through 
Christ, they recognize the transcendent importance of be- 
ing cleansed by his blood, they are deeply sensible of their 
guilt, and apprehend the danger of their condition — yea, 



Paul's Sermon Before Felix. 121 

there are times when conscience trembles in the presence of 
God; but if they go no farther than this, if will does not 
impel them to forsake sin and accept Christ, the soul is left 
in a more calamitous state than if it had never realized con- 
viction. The process of regeneration is contingent not upon 
conviction, but upon saving faith in Christ. 

2. Another lesson : It is a dangerous experiment for a 
man to make his religious obligations a matter of conven- 
ience. Felix did not intend to deliberately choose a life 
of sin in preference to the Christian life. He simply post- 
poned the matter, relegated its consideration to a " conven- 
ient " time. But religious obligation, our duty to God, \vi A 
not allow itself to be so treated. God must have the first 
place, or he will have none in our lives. Whenever a per- 
son recognizes the truth of Christianity, but postpones ac- 
tion because it would be inconvenient to make a move at 
present, he insults God; he shows a want of appreciation 
of the relative importance of his varied duties. When a 
man looks upon his profession or daily business as a matter 
of prime necessity — something not to be neglected because 
of family affairs, or change of weather, or other considera- 
tions — we regard him as wise. But suppose a man says : " I 
will attend church to-day, if the weather is fair and family 
affairs are favorable; if I am not too tired; if I feel well." 
Suppose he says : " I will attend the prayer-meeting, if I 
can get through my business, and go home and have sup- 
per in time." Suppose he says: " I will labor some for the 
salvation of my fellow-men, if it does not interfere with 
business matters." What is such a man doing? He is 
doing precisely what Felix did: he is making religion a 
matter of convenience; he is putting minor considerations 
above higher duties ; he is acting upon the principle that 
business cannot be neglected without loss, but that religious 
obligations may be omitted without punishment. This is 



122 Paul's Sermon Before Felix. 



one of the most alarming symptoms of spiritual decline. 
It shows a divergence of opinion between his soul and God; 
it reveals the fact that the man appreciates temporal things 
more than spiritual realities. Whenever, in the presence 
of Christian duty, a man says, "I will attend to it when 
convenient," he puts himself on the same platform with 
Felix. This ruler did not neglect questions of government 
and tax, and of affairs of State, simply because it was not 
convenient to look after them. He made things convenient ; 
but when his duty to God was presented, he said: " That 
can be put off, deferred till I am more inclined." Ah, my 
brethren, beware how you neglect your obligations to the 
Church of your God ! 

3. One more: Resistance of spiritual convictions on the 
ground of inconvenience is spiritual suicide. Felix never 
called for Paul again, though he had many opportunities. 
He lived in sin, and, though it was not convenient, he died. 
In the worlJ of the lost he has long since discovered his 
great mistake. Throwing off religious impressions increases 
hardness of heart, weakens conscience in its love of good, 
and produces moral insensibility. To resist conviction is 
to cut the throat, plunge a dagger into the heart, commit 
soul suicide. 

Paul the prisoner stood once where Felix stood. He 
trembled before a vision of Christ, on his way to Damascus. 
What was the difference between the two men? Paul says, 
" I was not disobedient to the heavenly vision." Felix ivas 
disobedient. We know that he regretted it in his dying- 
hour. Did Paul regret his course? Look at him covered 
with obloquy, shame, contumely, and worldly reproach. 
" Paul, are you not sorry you surrendered your prospects 
for earthly glory as a disciple of Gamaliel and member of 
the great Sanhedrim?" "God forbid that I should glory, 
save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ." Look at 



Paul's Sermon Before Felix. 123 



him again: money gone; friends gone; in penury, want, 
and destitution; dependent upon a charity collection for sup- 
port. " Paul, if you had not turned Christian, you could 
have had your palace and servants now. Are you not 
sorry?" "Yea, doubtless; I count all things loss for the 
excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord." 
Look at him in prison : his wrists sore from the rubbing 
manacles, his face pale from confinement, his frame emaci- 
ated for want of fresh air, to-morrow he must die by the 
headsman's cruel ax. "Paul, I know you are sorry now 
that you yielded to your religious convictions. O how hor- 
rible to be executed as a malefactor ! Do you not wish you 
had acted as Felix did?" "Henceforth there is laid up 
for me a crown of righteousness." Henceforth rest, re- 
ward, love, home, peace, grandeur, glory, angels, redeemed 
saints, God, Christ, heaven. 



Tlje Profit of Godliness, 



"Godliness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the 
life that now is, and of that which is to come." (1 Tim. iv. 8.) 

IF this congregation should resolve itself into a committee 
of the whole, after the manner of parliamentary bodies, 
and if I were permitted to present the doctrine of the text 
in the form of three resolutions, the result would be about 
as follows : 

1. Resolved, Godliness is profitable unto all things. 
Lost by an overwhelming majority. 

2. Resolved, Godliness has promise of the life that now is. 
Lost by more than two-thirds majority. 

3. Resolved, Godliness has promise of the life to come. 
Carried almost unanimously. 

This action on the part of the congregation would repre- 
sent substantially the action of every other congregation 
upon the doctrine of the text. 

Very few persons, comparatively, believe that "godliness 
is profitable unto all things." The general opinion is that 
godliness is profitable for theological controversy, for sec- 
tarian strife; it is profitable to be handsomely bound in an 
octavo, sheep-covered volume, and placed upon the center- 
table ; it is very profitable for poor and unlettered people, 
who are unable to enjoy life; it is profitable for the work- 
ing classes; it is profitable for the sick-chamber, for trials 
and disappointments; and it is profitable for a death-bed. 
But for everyday use, for business and social intercourse, 
for home life, for street talk, for pleasure and amusement, 
the prevailing belief is that godliness is not profitable. Yet 
" (124) 



The Profit of Godliness. 125 

in the face of these decided convictions, the apostle stands 
up, and says boldly and without hesitation, " Godliness is 
profitable unto all things." It is a paying investment con- 
sidered simply from the stand-point of this life, and it is a 
paying investment looked at from the stand-point of eternal 
life. It is profitable also if you take your place on the 
boundary-line that divides time from eternity, and think of 
it in its relations and bearings upon both worlds. This is 
the doctrine of Paul in the text. Let us look at this sub- 
ject to-day, and see if our reason, observation, and experi- 
ence do not confirm the apostle's inspired statement. 

I. The import of godliness. 

Godliness is not a religious opinion of God. Devils have 
religious opinions, but they are not usually considered very 
godly. It is not simply an impulsive wish in the direction 
of that which is good. Drunkards, gamblers, and murder- 
ers have good impulses. It is not merely an exalted and 
joyous state of the emotions. A young man unexpectedly 
declared to be the heir of a large estate feels joyous. It is 
not a blind determination to act differently from most men. 
Every fool and idiot in the land' tries to do that. The Bi- 
ble declares godliness to be something altogether above these 
floating convictions. It has been very truly said that we 
may regard godliness or religion both in the light of a sci- 
ence and an art. As a science, it implies doctrines to be 
believed ; as an art, it inculcates duties to be performed. 

1. Godliness then means, first of all, a true notion of 
God — of his character, of his relation to us, and of his re- 
quirements at our hands. A scriptural faith, a good creed, 
is essential to godliness. Many undervalue the importance 
of sound doctrine. They adopt as a motto the old couplet: 

For forms and creeds let graceless bigots fight; 

His creed cannot be wrong whose life is in the fight. 

There is a sense in which these words are true deeper than 



126 The Profit of Godliness. 

the poet intended to express. It is true that a man's creed 
is not wrong whose life is in the right; not because creeds 
are unimportant, but because a man's real life is but the 
exponent and embodiment of his creed. Between creed and 
practice there is the inseparable bond which unites cause 
with effect. You often hear people say, "It makes no dif- 
ference what a man believes provided he lives right." If 
by that expression is meant a man can live a good life with 
a bad creed, it is not true; for every man's life is an ex- 
pression of his belief. A man with loose convictions of 
God, duty, and the issues of eternity will be loose in char- 
acter and conduct. A man whose life is not right, and who 
is constantly violating the commands of God, may say he 
believes all that the Scriptures reveal concerning God and 
duty, but if he does not embody in his character these rev- 
elations he does not believe in them. You cannot find out 
what a man's creed is by asking him; you must look at his 
life in order to do that. Hence, the first thing necessary in 
order to be godly is to think and believe godly. 

2. Godliness means piety toward God. It is thus distin- 
guished from morality, which means piety toward man. 
There are many persons who make it a point to do their 
duty to their fellow-men. They are scrupulous in paying 
their debts, in dealing fairly in all business transactions, 
and in helping the worthy poor; but they never think of 
discharging their obligations to God. They do not worship 
nor revere nor love him with their hearts. These are moral 
men, as distinguished from godly men. Godliness empha- 
sizes our duty to God. A moral man conforms to certain 
religious regulations because they are popular or customary, 
or because he sees that it is to his interest to do so. A god- 
ly man is one who meets all the obligations of life because 
these obligations come from God, and because God ap- 
proves of such conduct. 



The Profit of Godliness. 127 

3. Godliness is also internal, and is thus distinguished 
from ritualism and formalism. The only place in this uni- 
verse where godliness can be found is in the human heart. 
The literal meaning of godliness is Godlikeness — resem- 
blance to God. In a certain sense, we may say the angels 
are godly — they resemble God — but not in the same sense 
in which man is godly. The angels have never sinned ; but 
godliness, as applied to man, is a change of the human heart 
from a resemblance of the devil to a resemblance of God. 
This godliness is within the man. It is the life of the Son 
of God in the soul. You cannot insert godliness into 
forms and instruments of religion. A man may have a 
book that tells him all about the laws of trees and vegeta- 
bles and flowers, but trees, vegetables, and flowers do not 
grow in books. The books point to them, but do not con- 
tain them. There can be no godliness in the Kew Testa- 
ment, nor in the Shorter Catechism, nor in the book of 
Common Prayer, nor in the Discipline. These things may 
tell us all about godliness, but godliness does not exist in 
books nor in type and printer's ink. It is internal. Its 
seat is in the disposition and will, in the conscience and af- 
fections. It is sometimes said of certain individuals, "They 
are godly men." Why? Because they are punctual in at- 
tending religious services; they know the Creed and Com- 
mandments by heart; they can talk about prophecies and 
argue about doctrines, and are chairmen of important 
Church committees. That of itself is only formalism, and 
Paul speaks of such men as " having a form of godliness, but 
denying the power thereof." They have the outside show, 
but are destitute of the inward transforming principle. 
Catechisms and creeds, confessionals and prayer-books, dis- 
ciplines and outward observances, do not save men. It is 
possible to occupy the most conspicuous pew in the church 
and at last fill the most uncomfortable seat in hell. It is 



128 The Profit of Godliness. 



possible for one to lead the choir in a church for twenty-five 
years, and yet never hear the angels sing. It is possible for 
a man to be sent to hell with a catechism in his vest-pocket, 
and "Wesley's Sermons under his arm, and a prayer-book in 
his hand. This is a "form of godliness." 

Bat the godliness which is profitable is a principle im- 
planted in the soul by Christ. It is the tree of life in the 
heart, whose fruits are love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gen- 
tleness, meekness, patience. This is the godliness which 
Paul says "is profitable unto all things." The great diffi- 
culty with our godliness in the Church in this nineteenth 
century of progress is that it is a hybrid species. It is the 
miserable spawn of a worldly-minded godliness; and while 
it may be profitable for self-ease and gratification, for relig- 
ious display and denominational glorification, it is not prof- 
itable for the soul's well-being either for time or eternity. 
But that godliness which consists in supreme love to God 
and a love for fellow-men equal to our love of self, which 
venerates and worships God as its chief delight, and which 
does unto others as it would that others should do unto it — 
this godliness "is profitable unto all things,- having promise 
of the life that now is, and of that which is to come." 

II. When Paul says it is profitable for the life that now 
is, he means that religion is a good investment so far as this 
world is concerned. He does not say simply that godliness 
is obligatory — that it is our duty — but he says it is profit- 
able. He means, 

1. It pays financially. 

There is a deep-seated conviction in the minds of worldly 
men — and I have been pained to see it sometimes in profess- 
edly Christian men — that an upright, strictly honest, un- 
compromising, godly life is unfavorable to financial prosper- 
ity. It is a good thing, these men will tell you, for a man 
who has failed m business, and who must have something 



The Profit of Godliness. 129 

to which he can look for consolation. " Godliness," they 
continue, "is profitable for a man to invest in when the doc- 
tor tells him he is going to die, and when he himself feels 
that this earth is breaking away from him and the solemn 
issues of eternity are bursting upon him ; but for a man in 
robust health, with a capital of ten or twenty thousand dol- 
lars invested in the banking business, or in the cotton busi- 
ness, or in some mercantile or manufacturing business, god- 
liness is not a profitable investment." It is hard to persuade 
the world that a successful merchant, or broker, or lawyer 
is a godly man. Why? Because it does not believe that 
godliness and financial prosperity are reconcilable. Looked 
at from one stand-point, the facts seem to support this no- 
tion. Take two men on the same street, engaged in the 
same kind of business. Let one of these men be truly up- 
right in all his buying and selling ; let all of his methods 
and dealings and accounts be in strict accordance with a 
transparent godliness. Let the other man leave out godli- 
ness altogether in his business ; let him cheat and swindle 
rnd defraud whenever a good opportunity is offered; let 
him take every advantage open to him; let him use every 
"policy" that brings in customers and sells goods at great- 
est profit ; let him recognize no Bible but his ledger, no phi- 
losophy but that of loss and gain, no motto but "Make all 
I can," no God but money, no creed but " I believe in the 
almighty dollar." Now for a time the probabilities are 
that this ungodly man will outstrip his godly rival in the 
race for financial prosperity. But whether an investment 
is profitable or unprofitable is not to be determined by its 
temporary but by its permanent succcess. You must judge 
of how a principle works not in the short run but in the 
long run. For a few years the ungodly man may succeed 
better than the godly ; but in the end he will not. Corrup- 
tion will unearth itself. Wickedness will come to the sur- 
s 



1 30 The Profit of Godliness. 

face. The world will find out dishonest men. They may 
do well for awhile. Men have built fortunes on founda- 
tions of fraud, but in the end these fortunes have crumbled. 
The eye of God is upon such men in their career. His arm 
is lifted to strike at the proper time. David said : " I have 
seen the wicked in great power, and spreading himself like 
a green bay-tree. Yet he passed away, and lo ! he was not ; 
yea, I sought him, but he could not be found." As in Da- 
vid's time, so now ungodliness shall be exposed sooner or 
later. In the long run every man will find that godliness 
is a better investment than railroad stock or real estate, or 
money at twelve per cent, interest in building a temporal 
fortune. The man who leaves godliness out of his business 
seals his own doom and forecasts his own failure. 

2. Godliness is profitable for our social enjoyments. 

I would like to have the ear of the young people when I 
say godliness is not an enemy to your enjoyment of life. It 
is not designed to lessen your social happiness. It will not 
empty the goblet of sweetness which young life presses to 
the lips, but will fill it to the brim. You regard religion 
and membership in the Church unprofitable to you because, 
you say, they require you to give up some things which add 
to your pleasure. All of that may be true; but it requires 
you to surrender one form of pleasure that it may give to 
you another far higher, nobler, and sweeter. The contro- 
versy which Christianity has with you is not that you have 
a desire for pleasure, but that your taste is bad in its selec- 
tion of that which is pleasurable. The Church does not 
quarrel with you because the dramatic element of your nat- 
ure is touched by tragedy, but because it is moved by the 
loud, coarse tragedy of the stage more than the grand and 
awful tragedy enacted on Calvary. It does not blame you 
for loving society, but because you prefer the society of the 
ball-room to the society of the prayer-meeting. The Church 



The Profit of Godliness. 1 31 

takes issue with you because your taste is perverted and 
vitiated, because you choose animal rather than intellectual 
and spiritual pleasure. At this point it is that godliness 
becomes profitable. It makes you see the coarseness that 
prefers sensual to moral enjoyment. It holds to your thirst- 
ing lips a chalice brimming with that pleasure which is pos- 
sessed by angelic natures. It pours into your hearts that 
enjoyment which makes God's bosom calm and beautiful. 
It opens to you pleasures worthy of your high origin, your 
noble powers, and your immortal destiny. 

3. Godliness is profitable for all things. 

Its very losses are turned into profits in the end. Is there 
any profit in self-surrender, in self-denial, in self-sacrifice? 
Yes; the effort required for you to deny the gratification 
of your carnal nature develops those latent resources in you 
that contain your highest greatness. Inasmuch as charac- 
ter is grander than wealth, inasmuch as being is more prof- 
itable than having, inasmuch as it is better to be a man 
than a brute, so is godliness — being like God — profitable at 
whatever sacrifices obtained. It is profitable unto all things 
because it appropriates to itself whatever is good in all 
things, and discards whatever is bad. Like the bee, it 
lights upon flowers of every hue, and from their bitterness 
and poison it extracts only honeyed sweetness. It brightens 
the darkest cloud of sorrow with a silver lining; it lights 
the blackest night of despair with stars that shine with un- 
. waning splendor; it makes home-life the nursery of heav- 
en ; it transforms human society into an earthly paradise ; 
it converts the heart of man into a temple for the worship 
of God ; it makes the wilderness blossom as the rose, and 
the hot, blistering desert it changes into an Eden, amid 
whose shadowy retreats God whispers to his human chil- 
dren. If there were no other world than this, godliness 
would still be profitable; it would enthrone truth and ban- 



132 The Profit of Godliness. 

ish error; it would magnify justice and whip injustice; it 
-would exalt right and frown upon wrong; it would secure 
the greatest prosperity, the greatest enjoyment, and the 
greatest good to the largest number. And this end is de- 
sirable, even on the supposition that the grave is the goal 
of human life and death the sepulcher of human hopes. 

III. But my text tells us that godliness is profitable for 
eternity. It has promise of the life to come. It is the only 
thing that does hold the assurance of future good. And, 
my friends, if godliness was unprofitable for this life and 
profitable only for eternity, it would nevertheless be a good 
investment, because time is short and eternity is long. If 
to possess godliness it was necessary to turn this earthly ex- 
istence into a solemn dirge, into one prolonged groan — yea, 
if to be godly it was necessary for you to spend a hundred 
years in hell — still it would be profitable, because you would 
have eternity to compensate for your sufferings. But God 
does not exact any such requirement. Godliness makes us 
rich in two w ? orlds. It secures to us all that is good in time 
and all that is grand in eternity. Godliness has an infinite 
sweep. It contains the promise of all that God can give. 
It is profitable to live by, and it is profitable when our time 
comes to lie down and die. 

Conclusion : 

What an affecting exhibition of God's infinite love, that 
the religion which he requires of us is not only grand and 
good in itself but offers to us the greatest of all rewards for 
service! 

It is true that the profits of religion ought not to be to us 
its chief attraction. Hope of its rewards should not be the 
strongest motive. We ought to love God and serve him 
because it is right, and because it is sweeter and more de- 
lightful to worship him than to live in sin; and these will 
be the controlling principles of our being when we are per- 



The Profit of Godliness. 133 



fected in heaven. But now we are fallen creatures, de- 
praved in taste and conscience and will. We live in a 
world that makes strong appeals to our love of sensual 
pleasures. Religion demands sacrifices which to our carnal 
natures are enormously heavy. It takes strong will-power 
to meet the obligations of godliness. Hence, God offsets 
these sacrifices by holding before our eyes the splendid vis- 
ions of the profits of godliness. If ii one direction we see 
losses, in the other direction we see gains; if from an 
earthly view we see a hard service, from a heavenly view 
we see a grand reward; if on this side the grave we see 
Gethsemane and Calvary, on the other side we see the 
empty sepulcher and the mount of ascension ; if the cross 
is heavy, the crown will be glorious. It was this vision of 
the reward that enabled Moses to choose affliction with 
God's people rather than enjoy the pleasures of sin for a 
season. It* was this hope of recompense also that came as a 
powerful stimulus to Paul to fight on, fight ever, when sore- 
ly pressed upon the battle-field. And of Jesus Christ, our 
great Pattern, it is said : " For the joy that was set before 
him, he endured the cross and despised the shame." If you 
are tempted to live out of Christ because of severe require- 
ments, remember the language of the text: "Godliness is 
profitable unto all things.'' Ungodliness will not prosper 
long. The apostle Paul assures us in words of terrible pow- 
er that "the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against 
all ungodliness." It is already revealed in his word. The 
Deluge, Sodom and Gomorrah, and thousands of other in- 
stances, God has left along the road-side of history as me- 
mentos of his wrath against ungodliness; but the great day 
of his wrath is to come. my hearers, if on the day of 
judgment you are without godliness, as you are to-day, how 
shall you meet your offended God? "When this world shall 
reel like a drunken man, when the light of the sun shall be 



134 The Profit of Godliness. 

darkened and the moon shall be turned into blood, when 
the stars shall fall from their sockets and this whole uni- 
verse shall be wrapped in flames, then shall the ungodly b£ 
cast into hell, "and all the nations that forget God;" but 
those who are righteous shall enter into the eternal man- 
sions. Believe me, "godliness is profitable unto all things, 
having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is 
to come." 



Brair) Power: 

The Ultimate End of Mental Culture. 



THERE are " signs of the times " as well as signs in the 
heavens. The interpretation of the one belongs to as- 
tronomy; the interpretation of the other to society. The 
transits and eclipses of the planets are events of great im- 
portance to astronomers; the rises and falls in the baro- 
metric and thermometric tubes are closely watched by the 
eye of science. So in that great system of organized forces 
which we call society there are intellectual transits and 
eclipses, mental elevations and depressions, which constitute 
the " signs of the times " in the movements of thought. 

Among the signs which mark conspicuously the present age 
is the growing demand for higher education. Already the 
log school-houses in which our fathers graduated have been 
substituted by buildings dedicated to the genius of learn- 
ing, whose architectural beauty is superb and imposing. 
And the contrast in buildings is not more marked than is 
the range of study involved and the improvement in modes 
of instruction. The science of chemistry alone covers a 
wider field than the whole curriculum of fifty years ago. 
Instead of the unaided and unillustrated methods of the 
past, we now have apparatus for demonstrating in the lect- 
ure-room almost every law of science or natural philoso- 
phy. Nor are these facilities for education confined to the 
favored few ; but the ruddy son of toil may now drink from 
the same fountains of learning which were once accessible 
only to the princely scion of wealth and blood. 

(135) 



136 Brain Power. 



The great principle of education, planted in human 
thought as a seed dropped into the soil, has germinated; it 
has blossomed into a hundred organized sciences, and its 
fruits have been plucked by every nation on the globe. So 
that in this age " a little learning " is not only " a danger- 
ous thing," but is rapidly becoming a disgraceful thing. 

In looking out upon the universities and colleges, the 
academies and high schools, which dot our broad land al- 
most as thickly as do star-gems the silent sky of night, the 
thoughtful inquirer will ask : " What mean these institu- 
tions of learning? why is this mighty influence of ma- 
tured intellect brought to bear upon embryonic mind? and 
why is this vast sum of money expended upon the gigantic 
and growing enterprise? " To all these interrogatories there 
is but one answer : This grand republic believes most heart- 
ily in intellectual culture. 

On an occasion, therefore, like this — in an assembly of 
teachers and pupils, graduates aud under-graduates, friends 
and patrons of learning — a discussion of the question, "What 
is the true end of all mental culture ? " ought at once to 
awaken sympathy and interest. 

The human mind, as you must know, in whatever direc- 
tion its activities flow, works under the influence of an 
ideal. Hence, our intellectual development will be simply 
the realization of our ideal of intellectual attainment. We 
can never rise higher in mental possibility than the end at 
which we aim. And in exact proportion to the breadth 
and scope of our conception of the ultima thule of educa- 
tion will be the grandeur and amplitude of our mental 
culture. 

If we ask the State, as a body politic, what is its con- 
ception of the end of education, the reply will be, Patriotic 
citizenship and intelligent exercise of the right of suffrage. 
But if we ask individuals this question, we will very soon dis- 



Brain Power. 137 



cover great want of unanimity in the answers. There are 
those — and their name is legion — whose highest idea of 
culture culminates in social elevation. With them the ob- 
ject of all institutions of learning is simply to prepare the 
mind to acquit itself handsomely in all the amenities of 
society-life, and to furnish it for entering into the irrepres- 
sible conflict for social honors and preferments. But it 
seems to me it would be an insult to your intelligence if I 
should pause long enough to criticise this conception and 
prove its utter incongruity with the royal capacities of the 
human mind. 

There is, however, another end far above that of social 
position in the scale of comparative excellence which mul- 
titudes enthrone as the supreme aim in culture. I mean 
the attainment of knowledge. And it is not a matter of 
astonishment that so many take this stand; for it may be 
supported by plausible arguments. When we examine the 
organic structure of the mind, we must admit that it has 
wonderful capacity to know; and its correlations with 
knowledge are as marked and well-defined as the fins of 
the fish to the water and the wings of the bird to the air. 
It has also an unmistakable love of knowledge. Each fac- 
ulty thirsts for intelligence. A desire to know the unknown 
is characteristic not only of great minds, but of all mind ; 
it is constitutional ; it is tne basis of all investigation ; it is 
the origin of all discovery ; \t is the unfailing source of all 
science and all philosophy. In correspondence with this 
innate capacity for and internal love of knowledge, this 
mighty, bewildering universe is simply a vast depository of 
facts, a divine thesaurus, an inexhaustible fountain invit- 
ing the human mind to slake its fevered thirst at its ten 
thousand crystal streams. But a little reflection must con- 
vince us that knowledge is nothing more than the food and 
drink which satisfy the hunger and thirst of the mind. It 



138 Brain Power. 



holds the same relation to mind that bread and water hold 
to the body. Just as we do not live to eat, but eat to live, 
so knowledge, however extensive, is not an end in itself, 
but only a means to a higher end. 

What, then, is the true end of mental culture? Let us 
see if we cannot reach it by the use of analogy. Man has 
three distinct departments in his complex nature — body, 
mind, and spirit. What is the end of all physical culture? 
It is the maximum of physical strength. What is the ul- 
timate end of all moral or spiritual culture ? It is the 
maximum of moral or spiritual energy. By parity of rea- 
soning, what, then, is the sovereign end of all mental cult- 
ure ? It must be the maximum of brain power. 

There was a time when the selection of this theme for an 
address before the students of a female college would have 
been much criticised. And even to-day there may be some 
who are saying, " What connection can there be between 
brain power and female culture?" But since history has 
left upon record the proud fact that Elizabeth Barrett 
Browning has sung some of the sweetest songs that ever 
floated like aerial music through the celestial empyrean of 
poetry ; since Rosa Bonheur has thrown upon canvas paint- 
ings that rival in conception and execution the wonderful 
productions of Landseer's brush; since George Eliot has 
so successfully explored the hidden depths of human nat- 
ure; and since such gifted women as Caroline Herschel 
and Mrs. Somerville have walked amid the burning con- 
stellations of the sky and erected temples of worship upon 
the sublime heights of astronomy — it can be no longer 
doubted that man must surrender his claim to a monopoly 
of brain power in our little world. Indeed, every revolu- 
tion of the earth around the sun is adding proof that wom- 
an's power is not confined to the mystic light that flashes 
from the star-depths of her eyes, nor to the smiles that lurk 



Brain Power. 139 



about her crimson lips, nor to the poetry of her motion, nor 
to the music of her voice, nor yet to the volubility of her 
tongue ; but that there is also a deposit of power bursting 
its confinement through the medium of her brain. It is 
true that her potentialities in this direction were for a long 
time "like the potency of light locked up within the fluor- 
spar crystal;" but since they have been warmed by the sun 
of intellectual progress, "the detent has been lifted," and 
an immediate outflow of mental light has been the result. 

But what do I mean by brain power ? I do not mean 
the power of any one faculty developed to its utmost limit 
at the expense of any other faculty ; but I mean the har- 
monious expansion of all the normal powers of the mind. 
Each faculty of the mind is in itself a magnificent capac- 
ity for knowledge ; and all these faculties, standing upon 
the summit of homogeneous and correlated development, 
constitute the maximum of brain power. It is that pecul- 
iar feature of mind which can " pile an imperial dome of 
thought beneath whose comprehensive span the greatest 
thinkers may find a shrine for their worship." 

If you ask me my reasons for regarding brain power as 
the supreme end of mental culture, the least forcible reply 
I could make would be that it, better than any thing else, 
will prepare you for whatever sphere of activity may be 
yours in this life. Whether, young lady, you are destined 
to become the busy wife of some honored agriculturist, hav- 
ing ready his simple repast when 

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, 
and 

The plowman homeward plods his weary way, 

or whether Providence shall assign you a mission in the 
domain of poetry, music, or art, nothing will aid you more 
effectually in the performance of the work which lies before 
you than brain power. 



140 Brain Power. 



I may go farther still, and say that all mental greatness, 
whether in man or woman, is measured by the amount of 
brain power which it represents. The oft-repeated saying 
of Lord Bacon is very familiar to you : " Reading makes a 
full man, conversing a ready man, writing a correct man." 
And he might have added : brain power a great man, a great 
woman. 

It is true that it would be possible to label every flower 
that blossoms, and yet not have a science of botany ; you 
might know the location of every rock in the earth, and at 
the same time not have a science of geology ; you might 
have a perfect geography of every star that rolls through 
space, and not have a universe; you might have a complete 
Bible, and not have a revelation. There must be brain 
power behind facts in order to construct them into a sys- 
tem, a science, a universe, or a revelation. Walking ency- 
clopedias are not the world-movers or world-leaders of each 
age. They are the polished mirrors that follow in the track 
of brain power and reflect the rays of light that stream in 
all directions from its self-luminous orb. 

It is at this point that our modern system of education is 
open to criticism. There is a tendency to so modify the 
curriculum of college study as to involve a minimum of 
severe discipline and profound thought. The " cramming" 
method is in great excess of intellectual digestion and as- 
similation. The consequence is that many of our colleges 
turn out annually upon society polished imbeciles or mental 
dyspeptics iustead of intellectual kings and queens. Nor 
is it difficult to ascertain the cause of this state of things. 
It is the demand of the age in which we live- — an age in 
which the mania to know blinds to all higher ends. Ours 
is, of necessity, a superficial era in the world's history. So 
many new facts are constantly marshaled before us, fresh 
discoveries follow each other in such rapid and bewildering 



Brain Power. 141 



succession, that it is almost impossible to pause long enough 
to thoroughly master any one subject. The intellectual at- 
mosphere is charged with hypotheses, predictions, and hasty 
conclusions. Mind has well-nigh lost its latitude and lon- 
gitude on the heaving ocean of speculation. As a natural 
result, skepticism is rife both in intellect and theology. 
" Much learning " has made this age " mad." The well- 
filled sails of knowledge are in such great excess of the bal- 
last of brain power that the stately ship of mind is labor- 
ing and careening as she plows her way through the dash- 
ing waves of doubt. Or, to change the figure and borrow 
an illustration, the granite of embryonic mind is, in the 
polishing process, in danger of having its strength impaired 
and its solidity destroyed. And what I wish to impress 
upon these young ladies to-day is, that not the amount of 
knowledge they may acquire of French, German, Latin, 
mathematics, music, and art will determine the value of 
their college course; but it is the discipline of mind, the 
robustness of thought which they have secured in the mas- 
tery of text-books, that will measure the worth of their 
culture. 

In all mental pursuits the brain power acquired is infi- 
nitely more valuable than the knowledge accumulated. It 
is related of Malebranche that he said on one occasion : " If 
I held truth captive in my hand, I should open it and let 
her fly, that I might pursue and capture her again." Less- 
ing made a similar statement. " Did the Almighty," said 
he, " holding truth in his right-hand, and in his left search 
after truth, tender me my choice, in all humility, but with- 
out reluctance, I should select search after truth." What 
these men would teach us by such utterances is that it is 
better to be intellectually than to have. 

" Facts and truths," it has been well said, " are but weap- 
ons ; and it is far better to have but a single weapon, and, 



142 Brain Power. 



possessing a stalwart arm and veteran skill, wield it with, 
commanding success, than to stand in an armory bristling 
with the most approved weapons, and have neither strength 
nor skill to use them efficiently. Better be a Samson, with 
the jaw-bone of a brute for a weapon, than to be a weak-, 
ling, with a sword of purest steel and keenest edge." 

Ability to discover a single truth evinces a higher and 
broader culture than the possession of thousands of truths 
already revealed. Thus I find another reason why brain 
power should be considered the chief end of mental cult- 
ure : it qualifies the mind for the great and unending search 
after truth. "What is truth?" is a question that sooner or 
later agitates every thinking mind. It is the question of 
humanity ; the great intellects of the past beat their wings 
against it, and to-day it perplexes and bewilders us. Rea- 
son has sent forth her sons and daughters in every direc- 
tion ; thought after thought, with an archangel's velocity, 
has swept over the shoreless ocean of speculation ; sentinel 
after sentinel has been stationed upon the far-off outposts 
of inquiry; intellectual Franklins and Kanes have set sail 
for those arctic oceans that girdle either pole of unexplored 
truth, and with eager gaze have watched every movement 
of thought in that frosted and icy realm. And yet to-day, 
amid the magnificent achievements of the nineteenth cent- 
ury, the great question, "What is truth?" is still unan- 
swered. And what I would impress upon you in this con- 
nection is that success in the discovery of truth is measured 
by the amount of brain power invested in the search. You 
may trace the history of any grand discovery that has en- 
lightened the world's progress, and you will find that it has 
been made — not by dreamers, however polished; nor by 
superficialists, however wide their range ; but by the stal- 
wart arm and steady strokes of brain power. There is in 
the human mind a power of expansion — I might almost 



Brain Power. 143 



say a power of creation — brought into play by simply pom 
dering and brooding over facts, which unbars the doors 
that obstruct our way to the discovery of truth. It was 
in this way that Kepler found that the planets move in el- 
lipses rather than in circles ; and it was upon the wings of 
brain power that Newton ascended from the falling apple 
to the universal law of gravitation. It is in the vulcanic 
furnace of brain power that are forged the mighty thunder-, 
bolts of thought that shiver into atoms falsehood and error. 
It is brain power that fuses the clanking chain of supersti- 
tion, breaks the manacles and handcuffs of ignorance, and 
liberates the imprisoned forces of the mind that condition 
the world's civilization. As the lightning leaves its mark 
upon the granite cliffs, so brain power leaves its impress 
upon society wherever it strikes. " The electric telegraph 
assures us that Morse has been ; while the flying train and 
floating steamer tell us that Watt and Stephenson have 
passed on just in advance." The mighty world of intellect 
is constantly speaking to us of its grand past, and in all 
its learning, art, science, and government, says to us : " Here 
giants have been; these are the paths that have been trod- 
den by the heavy feet of brain power." 

Hence, I think you must agree with me when I say that 
brain power is the grandest, the most imperial power in the 
universe. There is poiver in every thing — in even the most 
infinitesimal atom that floats in space. There is power in 
the falling snow-flake to wrinkle the smooth face of the 
mountain lake ; there is power in the dew-drop to moisten 
the parched lips of the blue-eyed violet; there is power in 
the earthquake to shake the granite ribs of the everlasting 
hills; there is power in the hurricane that toys at will with 
the gallant vessel on the ocean's bosom ; there is power in 
the thunderbolt that, like an avenging demon, rives with 
destruction wherever it strikes. Power active or power 



144 Brain Power. 



latent belongs to every molecule of this wonderful cosmos. 
But, as we all know, there is a higher and more ultimate 
form of power than that which belongs to matter. It is 
power in that mighty, triumphant form which we call 
brain power, and which is second only to God in this uni- 
verse. Do you ask me for its credentials to this lofty claim ? 
I say, Look around you; see its indestructible monuments 
and achievements. It has evoked the expansive force of 
steam, and set its Herculean arm to turning the wheels of 
the world's machinery ; mounting the storm-cloud, it has 
seized the black-winged spirit of the thunderbolt, and made 
it annihilate time and space in transmitting its thoughts to 
distant realms; it has liberated the angel imprisoned in the 
unquarried stone; it has incarnated ideals of beauty on 
fresco and canvas that are at once the wonder and admira- 
tion of humanity; it has crystallized into immortal poems 
songs that have thrilled the ages with the music of their 
numbers; and walking at will through the starry avenues 
above us, it has resolved the luminous dust of the " milky- 
way " into countless worlds, weighed yon sun in its bal- 
ances, and analyzed the light that trembles in ten thousand 
star-lamps as they swing in space. Here do we find the 
mind's resemblance to its Author. God is the absolute 
Thinker; and in proportion as we rise in the altitudes of 
mental power do we approach him who is infinite in thought. 
The language, therefore, of every truly great mind, as it 
sweeps through the aisles of this lower cathedral and looks 
behind secondary causes, is that of the immortal Kepler: 
" O God, I think thy thoughts after thee! " 

I suspect that I have already taxed your attention ; but 
allow me to give just one reason additional why I would 
enthrone brain power as the end of all mental culture. It 
is this: Because it projects every human mind upon a ca- 
reer of endless progression,. If you make intelligent citi- 



train Power. 145 



zenship the end of culture, then that end can look no 
farther than the grave; for death terminates our connec- 
tion with the governments of this world. If you locate 
the aim of education in the polish and refinement of intel- 
lect necessary to the graces of polite society, that too must 
be temporary; for our relations to society are transient. 
If you make attainment in the knowledge of facts or ac- 
quaintance with truths already discovered the summum 
bonum of culture, then you can conceive of a time when all 
improvement must cease; because there is a limit to the 
facts and truths deposited in this globe. Besides, when 
death severs the ties which bind us to this world we shall 
have no further use for time-truths and time-knowledge. 
But if you make brain power the ultimate end of all mental 
culture, you thrust the mind at once upon a line of prog- 
ress that sweeps onward without limitation. Brain pow- 
er is necessarily cumulative. Every accretion enlarges the 
power for still further accretions. Unlimited expansion 
is the law of its nature. It is stamped with infinity, 
and throbs with immortality. Passing untouched through 
the death-channel, it soars onward in an eternal advance- 
ment. No matter how high it ascends, still higher heights 
throw down their attractions and draw it upward; no 
matter how sweet the songs that break upon it in its march, 
sweeter far are floating on the perfumed air beyond; no 
matter how grand the vision that gladdens its sight to-day, 
grander still shall burst into view to-morrow. 

Gleams of this immortality are constantly flashing upon 
us even in this life. The very conception of infinity is the 
mark of a mind to which no limit can be assigned. And 
so in all its higher actions — in original thought, in the cre- 
ations of genius, in the flights of imagination, in the aspira- 
tion to rise to lofty and untried realms of progress — it un- 
ceasingly a (tests its claim to boundless exjwnsion. ".Add 



146 Brain Power. 



but that element eternity to the progress of mind," exclaims 
a distinguished thinker, " and the results of its existence 
surpass not only human but angelic thought! " " Give me 
this, and the glory of the human mind becomes as incom- 
prehensible as God himself." 

With such a stupendous future in view, no wonder we 
sometimes look impatiently ahead. Here our noblest ef- 
forts are often unsatisfactory. These fleshly prison-walls 
shut us in and clip our wings when we would sweep up- 
ward, and soar and sing. And thus, in the experience of 
each of us, are the words of the poet verified : 

I think the song that 's sweetest 

Is the one that 's never sung; 
That lies at the heart of the singer, 

Too grand for mortal tongue. 
And sometimes in the silence, 

Between the day and night, 
He fancies that its measures 

Bid farewell to the light. 

A picture that is fairer 

Than all that have a part 
Among the masterpieces 

In the marble-halls of art 
Is the one that haunts the painter 

In all his golden dreams, 
And to the painter only 

A real picture seems. 

The noblest, grandest poem 

Lies not in blue and gold 
Among the treasured volumes 

That rosewood book-shelves hold, 
But in bright, glowing visions 

It comes to the poet's brain; 
And when he tries to grasp it, 

He finds his efforts vain. 



Brain Power. 147 



A fairy hand from dream-land 

Beckons us here and there; 
And when we try to clasp it, 

It vanishes into air. 
And thus our fair ideal 

Floats always just before; 
And we, with longing spirits, 

Keach for it evermore. 

Young ladies, my subject is before you. I have tried to 
present to you a worthy end for your mental culture, though 
my views may seem to many of you better suited to the 
mind of man than to that of the female student. If so, 
however, I fear you have not fully apprehended me. The 
intellect of woman does differ from that of man at many 
points ; each moves in its own orbit. Yet, in capacity for 
mind-growth, I believe they are equally favored ; that the 
great Creator never designed that there should be any ques- 
tion of superiority or inferiority between them; but that 
each should be the complement of the other. I know it 
has been said that " woman has painted no Madonna, writ- 
ten no ' Paradise Lost/ designed no St. Peter's." But she 
has done something infinitely greater: she has lived a Ma- 
donna, she has created ten thousand paradises, and she has 
built and adorned countless heart-shrines for the entempling 
of the pure, the beautiful, and the good. And while I have 
cited exceptional examples of female brain power in the 
realms of literature, science, and art, which serve as lenses 
through which every woman may look at the possibilities 
of her own mind, I have at the same time endeavored to 
impress upon you the fact that brain power has also a mis- 
sion at the fireside and in the home-life. 

If, then, there is a young lady present, who is destined in 
the near future to become the wife of some noble, gifted man. 
let me say to her, Po not find contentment in being simply 
his pet and plaything, nor yet expect to remain the divin- 



148 Brain Power. 



ity of his worship; but fit yourself to become the trusted 
mid beloved companion of his life. Be to him a helpmeet 
in his most elevated mental pursuits, acting ever as the 
complement of his mind — both blending together in mutual 
resemblance as you advance in development, ever approxi- 
mating as you rise, until you not only meet, but close in 

love. 

Like when two dew-drops on the petal shake 
To the same sweet air, and tremble deeper clown 
And slip at once, all fragrant, into one. 



Moses, 



"He endured as seeing Him who is invisible." (Heb. xi. 27.) 

(JOT) incarnates his greatest truth. When lie purposes to 
\JT project a divine doctrine upon society as a regenerating 
power; he incarnates it in a great soul that touches so- 
ciety at every point. He gives it voice and eyes and lungs 
and heart in a living personality. God thus solves the par- 
adox of abstract statement by its concrete expression. My 
text is a case in point. "Seeing the invisible" is seeing 
that which cannot be seen. It is the paradox of faith. As 
a mere statement it is contradictory, but incarnated in a 
man it is consistent. 

This eleventh chapter of Hebrews is a roll-call of the 
dead, to explain and illustrate the paradox that faith sees 
the invisible, the unseeable. This is the great value of 
scriptural biography to the world. It is a revelation of 
God's truth in voice-intonations, eye-flashes, and heart-beats. 
Spiritual biography is the special theater of divine manifes- 
tation. God whispers in the breeze and thunders in the 
storm, but acts in good men. The Red Sea, Horeb, and 
Sinai are monuments of divine revelation, but in sacred bi- 
ography we have sublimer expressions of God's power. 
Hence, the great men of the Bible are not idols for our 
worship nor statues for our admiration. They are not for- 
eign suns, shining in orbits isolated from our moral system, 
but they are our brothers; they belong to our race; our 
blood bounds in their veins. They are not confined to one 
zone or latitude or age, but belong to all zones, latitudes, 
and ages. The whole human race owns property in every 

(149) 



150 Moses. 



great man of the Bible. They are God's lenses, through 
which every man may look at the possibilities of his own 
nature. They are not miracles, nor prodigies on a plane 
above human beings, but actual developments of human 
nature under the influence of faith. Hence, if you rob the 
Bible of its biographies, sacred poetry is despoiled of its 
sparkling enchantment and sacred history of its thrilling 
interest. 

This introduction is irresistibly suggested by the person- 
ality, life, and character of the man brought before us in 
the text. If you eliminate the biography of Moses from 
the Pentateuch, its leaves fall apart, and its pages become 
dry narratives. My text assumes that Moses was a great 
man, and discloses the secret of that greatness. The Greek 
word here translated "endured" means more than passive 
submission to reverses; it means also active overcoming and 
becoming. In modern phraseology the import of the text 
would be expressed by saying, " He became great by serv- 
ing Him who is invisible." It teaches us that seeing the 
invisible is the secret in the lives of all those men who 
stand forth as " the holiest among the mighty and the 
mightiest among the holy." 

What I would have us do at this hour is to consider the 
life of Moses, and see that from its perilous beginning to its 
sublime close it unfolded and developed into greatness un- 
der the influence of faith in God. This ought to be inter- 
esting, especially to young men aspiring to be what God 
would have them be. 

1. Moses's biography may be divided chronologically into 
three periods of equal length. 

(1) The first period covers the first forty years of his life. 
He was born in dangerous times. He had a royal ancestry, 
but at the time of his birth it was royalty in bondage. The 
Hebrews were the slaves of Egypt. There was an edict 



Moses. 151 

that every male Hebrew born should be slain. But faith 
presided at the birth of Moses — vicarious parental faith. 
For faith may be vicarious as truly as love. Three months 
it outwitted the decree of death. A mother's faith was 
more argus-eyed than Egyptian police or detective. But 
at the end of that time it recognized its inability to longer 
conceal the beautiful child.. So the parents made a little 
vessel of flags, or bulrushes, in which they placed the infant 
and sent him adrift upon the bosom of the Nile, with faith 
as his propelling power and Providence as his pilot. But 
you are acquainted with the story: his adoption into Pha- 
raoh's family and his forty years in the royal palace. It 
was during these forty years at the celebrated college of 
Heliopolis that he. became, as Stephen tells us, " learned in 
all the wisdom of the Egyptians, and was mighty in words 
and deeds." 

(2) The next forty years of his life were spent in the 
land of Midian. Under the soft radiance of Arabia's deep- 
blue sky, an Arab among Arabs, he followed a nomadic 
life. As an Arabian shepherd, he became acquainted with 
the topography and geography of the country. Providence 
had sent him there that he might become familiar with a 
land across whose borders he should lead an enslaved peo- 
ple. But Moses learned something more than geography 
in Arabia. He was a student of nature now as he had 
been of men and manuscripts in Egypt. Wandering over 
those rock-ribbed mountains and by the streams that washed 
their bases, and guiding his flock across the green hill-side 
pastures, with faith in his heart and well-trained powers in 
his mind, nature was to him an open volume, and he read 
at will the secrets of her mystic pages. 

His daily teachers were the woods and rills, 

The silence that is in the starry sky, 
The sleep that is among the lonely hills. 



152 Hoses. 

The material world has always been a great teacher to 
Christian faith. So, by fait'h seeiDg the invisible, Moses 
studied in nature's laws the legislation of the divine parlia- 
ment. Through nature's combinations and adaptations he 
pondered the philosophy of God. From the silence and 
voices of nature he drank the poetry of the skies. Lead- 
ing his flock of sheep from pasture to pasture, his faith w T as 
being trained to lead the flock of God from the desert of 
Egypt to " the green pastures and still waters" of Canaan. 
After he had been disciplined thus for forty years, God ap- 
peared to him in a burning bush, and introduced him to 
the third and closing period of his life. 

(3) It required eighty years of preparation to qualify 
Moses for forty years of active achievement; but a prepared 
man can do more and better work in one year than an un- 
prepared man can do in fifty years. When Moses became 
the leader and founder of the Hebrew nation his faith util- 
ized to great advantage all that he had learned as a student 
in Egypt and a shepherd in Arabia. And as these latent 
resources and reserved forces became actualities, he broke 
upon the world as truly a great man. In every element 
of this greatness, faith — " seeing Him who is invisible" — wes 
the secret of power. 

(a) The Bible says of him, "There arose not a prophet 
in all Israel like unto him." Elijah was his equal in cour- 
age, Isaiah in prophetic insight, Ezekiel in sublime concep- 
tion, Daniel in uncompromising heroism; but, in addition 
to all these, Moses had other elements of greatness which in 
these men were wanting. 

(b) Through faith he became the world's greatest mili- 
tary chieftain. No revolutions of universal history have 
produced his equal. Bonaparte could do wonders with the 
French people because they were capable of military inspi- 
ration, but with Africans could Napoleon have achieved 



Moses. 153 



such brilliant victories? Yet Moses led on to victory a 
nation whose courage had been eaten up by centuries of 
slavery. Could any thing but faith have attempted to lead 
such "a forlorn-hope?" 

(c) Through faith also he rose into the world's greatest 
legislator. No new fundamental laws of jurisprudence have 
been discovered since his day. 

(d) As a philosopher, he stands head and shoulders above 
the sages of the world. I have seen the philosophy of the 
Pentateuch compared with the philosophy of Confucius and 
Zoroaster and Mohammed, with that of Lycurgus, Solon, 
and Plato, and it rises as high above them as Moses rises 
above their authors. 

(c) Pie was also a great poet. Some of his productions 
are in the Pentateuch and some in the Psalms, and they are 
as grand and thrilling as David's best. It was not superior 
native endowment, nor genius, nor reason, nor culture, nor 
training, in themselves, that lifted him into these lofty alti- 
tudes, but because by faith all his powers were brought un- 
der the direct play and influence of " Him who is invisible." 

Every man is great in proportion as he sees invisible real- 
ities. The statesman expands and grow T s in depth and 
breadth of observation only by rising above the visible and 
seeing the great invisible principles of government. Seeing 
the invisible angel in the unquarried stone, or concealed be- 
hind the color on the canvas, makes the artist. Seeing the 
invisible in flower and star and storm makes the poet. In- 
sight into the invisible gives grasp to the philosopher's con- 
ceptions. And when clouds gather over the head of the 
Christian, and lightnings flash and thunders bellow, and 
sorrow's waves heave and toss his bark, it is faith that sees 
the rainbow spanning the bosom of the thunder-storm and 
hears the winds subside into whispering lullabies. 

2. Moses "endured as seeing Him who is invisible." And 



154 Moses. 



if you thrust into the background his public life, and bring 
to the forefront his private life — that life which corresponds 
to the life of each one of us — you will see that theie, too, see- 
ing the invisible was the secret of its sublime majesty and 
sublimer achievement. 

(1) It explained his great refusal. "By faith Moses re- 
fused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter." The 
more you study it, the more deeply will you be impressed 
with the greatness of his refusal. He did not refuse merely 
to be the petted and spoiled son of a worldly princess, but 
also the most flattering prospects as heir presumptive to the 
throne of Egypt; and to be the monarch of such a kingdom 
was a powerful temptation. It made its appeal to man's 
highest ambition— his thirst for power. Love of power is 
strong in strong men. What is the history of earth's con- 
quering heroes but a struggle for power? Trace the career 
of each one, and with what are you most deeply impressed? 
Not with his patriotism, not with his sell-abnegation, but 
with his love of power. What means all this excitement 
to-day in politics, in stocks, in railroad syndicates? It is 
man's struggle for power. Moses was a man. The same 
loves and passions and ambitions that stir humanity to-day 
moved his bosom. If he had looked at the visible he would 
not have refused. He closed his eyes against crown and 
scepter, and turned his back upon empire, because " he en- 
dured as seeing Him who is invisible." 

(2) The same principle explains his deliberate choice. 
" He chose rather to suffer afflictions with the people of 
God, . . . esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches 
than all the treasures in Egypt." In the light of this 
world's philosophy, his choice w 7 as as strange and wonderful 
as his refusal. He declined a kingdom, he chose affliction. 
The inspired penman tells us nothing of the mighty strug- 
gle in his heart before he refused, and the mighty conflict in 



Moses. 155 



his will before he made his choice ; but an uninspired writer 
thus paints the picture : " I fancy I see the princely Moses 
in this hour of trial and of triumph. Slowly and thought- 
fully he ascends some eminence that overlooks the surround- 
ing country. Great thoughts struggle in his mind ; great 
questions agitate his throbbing bosom. At his feet lies the 
fair city, reflecting from dome and tower the golden beams 
of the setting sun. Proud temples glisten in the flashing 
light. The palace with all its gorgeousness and splendor, 
the throne-room, and waiting crown and scepter, meet his 
eye. His view embraces, the rich lands of Egypt with all 
their vast resources, and the treasure-cities with their un- 
told wealth. All this shall be his if he will consent to be 
called the son of Pharaoh's daughter. Yonder, on the pub- 
lic works and in the fields, toiling in their grime and sweat, 
bending beneath heavy burdens and smarting under cruel 
blows, he sees the hated and enslaved Israelites — rhis coun- 
trymen. His eye rests on their wretched huts, and his 
heart sickens at their degradation. But, standing there 
on the threshold of a decision so pregnant with destiny, 
faith listens to a strange, heavenly voice. The veil is lift- 
ed, and it sees visions of a triumphant future." The great 
refusal is announced ; the heroic election is made. He saw 
the invisible, and that determined his choice. 

(3) What wonderful revelations faith makes! By it, we 
are told, Moses " esteemed the reproach of Christ greater 
riches than all the treasures in Egypt." That is a remark- 
able statement. It seems almost incredible. Look at it for 
a moment. Egypt was the mother of invention and arts. 
She had four magnificent colleges — Thebes, where Pythag- 
oras studied; Memphis, where Thales and Democritus 
sought knowledge; Heliopolis, where Plato learned wis- 
dom ; and Sais, where Solon was instructed. Besides this, 
the Egyptians were the first who walked along the starry 



156 Moses. 



firmament and consulted Orion, Arcturus, and the Pleiades. 
And then there were her splendid temples, her magnificent 
gardens, and her pyramids, that stand to-day lonely monu- 
ments of departed glory. Yet Moses esteemed the reproach 
of Christ greater riches than all these treasures of wealth 
and glory. The reproach of Christ! What did Moses 
know of Christ — Moses, who died fifteen hundred years be- 
fore Christ was born? Great God, what a faith that man 
possessed ! He was a Christian in advance of Christianity. 
With the more than eagle eye of faith, his vision swept 
down the future ages, passing over centuries in rapid suc- 
cession — on and on, until it rested finally on Calvary. 
There, lingering over a despised and dying Nazarene, with 
bleeding brow and hands and feet, sinking under the weight 
of Jewish outrage and Gentile mockery, covered with ec- 
clesiastical and civil reproach — Moses saw in that reproach 
an infinity of riches, a royalty of wealth, beside which pyra- 
mids and crowns and thrones and gardens sunk into abject 
poverty. 

Such a man the world calls visionary. He is a visionary 
w 7 ho follows the dream of his mind rather than the sight 
of his eyes. He lets illusions lead him, and gives to the 
imaginary such power as belongs to reality; and, indeed, 
there is not much to be said for the mere dreamer. It is 
the infirmity of some minds that they fly in the air and 
rarely touch the solid earth. They waste their powers be- 
cause they mistake shadows for realities. Visionary spec- 
ulations in business and in philosophy unsettle men's minds 
and bankrupt their estates. But there are visions and vis- 
ionaries that bear no such reproach. There are visionaries 
who lead the world, and realize their visions because they 
see the invisible and believe in what they see. St. Paul 
had such a vision, and it inspired, empowered, and immor- 
talized him. Moses, too, was such a visionary. It enabled 



Moses. 157 



him to refuse Egypt, choose affliction with the people of 
God, and see in the reproach of Christ greater riches than 
all the treasures of Egypt. Expel such visionary men as 
these, and you expel earth's greatest poets and prophets, her 
greatest inventors and discoverers. Expel these, and you 
call a halt along all the lines of progress. They have made 
the pages of history worth reading, and they are God's 
grand, heroic men in hastening the millennial dawn. " See- 
ing Him who is invisible " makes the true visionary, and 
fills his mind with what Paul calls " the heavenly vision." 
It gives him eyes to see and ears to hear what is darkness 
and silence to other men. 

Mr. Huxley has said: "The wonderful noonday silence 
of a tropical forest is often due only to the dullness of our 
hearing ; and could our ears catch the murmurs of these 
tiny maelstroms as they whirl in the innumerable myriads 
of living cells which constitute each tree, we should be 
stunned as with the roar of a great city." And so I may 
say the silence of the invisible world of which men com- 
plain is due only to the dullness of our faith. Could 
faith catch the pealing anthems of eternity, our spirits 
would be stirred as with the noise of many waters. Moses 
had such a faith ; it saw the invisible, and listened to the 
inaudible. 

In conclusion, permit me to say not only did Moses live 
and act as seeing the invisible, but in the same manner he 
died. There is no grander scene recorded in human his- 
tory than the death and burial of Moses. He was an old 
man — one hundred and twenty years of age — but the sa- 
cred historian tells us "his eye was undimmed, and his nat- 
ural force unabated." He was not far from the promised 
land, and was no doubt rejoicing that very soon he would 
lead his people safely into their happy destination. But in 
the midst of his exultant feelings he was startled by the 



158 Moses. 

command of God : " Get thee up into this mountain Aba- 
rim, unto mount Nebo, which is in the land of Moab," and 
die there. This was the strangest command to which he had 
ever listened. He had heard many, had never disobeyed 
one ; but of all this was the most unaccountable. No disease 
preyed upon his system, his pulse beat steadily and full, his 
heart contracted and dilated with uniform pulsation, his 
eye was still strong as that of the eagle; but in perfect self- 
poise he hears the command to die, and without question or 
complaint proceeds to obey. And in performing without a 
murmur this last command, he is more majestic than in any 
other crisis of his eventful career. How magnificent his 
proportions as he stands in the presence of Pharaoh de- 
manding the freedom of his people! how sublime on Ho- 
reb! how awfully majestic on Sinai! how heroic as on 
bended knee he throws himself into the breach, and begs 
God to blot his name out of the divine memory rather than 
destroy his people! Yet how much grander and more he- 
roic as, in perfect health, he ascends Nebo to die there! Can 
you not see him as he climbs the mountain-slope? as he 
pauses on one of its granite ribs to take a farewell look at 
his people? And as he nears the apex, can you not almost 
hear his soliloquy? "How will death conquer me? By 
starvation? by some slow, wasting disease? by a thunder- 
bolt? All alone, too! Nor wife, nor elder, nor friend to 
bear me company ! Alone with the rocks and trees, and 
moaning winds, and solemn stars, and God." But one more 
step, and he stands on Pisgah's summit. His eye turns to- 
ward the setting sun, and Canaan is mirrored on his retina. 

O the transporting, rapturous scene 

That rises to his sight ! 
Sweet fields arrayed in living green, 

And rivers of delight. 

But his faith, looking through his eyes, saw something 



Moses. 159 



more than lakes and rivers and " living green." It dipped 
into the future, and saw the star over Bethlehem ; heard 
the angels' song ; saw the Mount of Beatitudes, Mount Mo- 
riah and the sacrifice greater than Isaac bleeding there; 
saw Olivet and the ascending Son of God. And while he 
locked and wondered, God loosed his spirit from his body 
and bore it to Abraham's bosom. His life-work was not 
quite finished; his people had not crossed Jordan. But a 
man can afford to die with his work incomplete if he can 
but die on Nebo, and in sight of Canaan. Of his body it 
is said God buried it "in a valley in the land of Moab; . . 
but no man knoweth of his sepulcher unto this day." 
When earth's great men die, presidents and statesmen are 
pall-bearers. Nations honor them in their burial, and 
friends erect the monumental shaft to commemorate their 
virtues. But God and the angels buried Moses. 



That was the grandest funeral 

That ever passed on earth ; 
But no man heard the trampling 

Or saw the train go forth. 
Noiselessly as the daylight 

Comes when the night is done, 
And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek 

Grows into the great sun; 
Noiselessly as the spring-time 

His crown of verdure weaves, 
And all the trees on all the hills 

Open their thousand leaves: 
So, without sound of music 

Or voice of them that wept, 
Silently clown from the mountain crown 

The great procession swept. 
And had he not high honor? 

The hill-side for his pall, 
To lie in state while angels wait, 

With stars for tapers tall ; 



160 Moses. 



And the dark rock-pines, like tossing plumes, 

Over his bier to wave, 
And God's own hand, in that lonely land, 

To lay him in the grave. 

To those who endure as seeing the visible only it was a 
grand mistake for Moses to refuse " to be called the son of 
Pharaoh's daughter," to reject a crown and throne, to choose 
to suffer affliction with the people of God rather than " en- 
joy the pleasures of sin for a season." But let your eye 
sweep down the centuries. See the lawgiver of Israel, in 
company with Elijah, descending from heaven to hold high 
converse with the transfigured Christ on Tabor. Ask Mo- 
ses now if he made a mistake when he esteemed " the re- 
proach of Christ greater riches than the treasures in 
Egypt," The vast wealth and glory of Egypt have de- 
parted, her magnificent temples and proud palaces are dust, 

but 

The splendid crown which Moses sought 

Still beams around his brow, 
Though soon great Pharaoh's sceptered pride 

Was taught by death to bow; 

That prize, with peerless glories bright, 

Which shall new luster boast 
When victor's wreaths and monarch's gems 

Shall blend in common dust. 



Abel and Christ 



" To the blood of sprinkling, that speaketh better things than 
that of Abel." (Heb. xii. 24.) 

THE greatest and most effective writers are fond of using 
that figure of rhetoric called antithesis — a figure by 
which a great truth or principle or character is presented 
vividly by being held up in contrast with its opposite. 
White is never so white as when seen on a background of 
black. Light shines most brilliantly in the dark. Virtue 
is most lovely when standing by the side of vice. 

My text is the culmination of an antithesis presented in 
the form of an ascending climax. The inspired writer is 
laboring to show the surpassing grandeur of God's revela- 
tion of himself, through Christ and the New Testament, by 
contrasting it with his revelation of himself through the old 
covenant. 

Writing to the Hebrew Christians who had been con- 
verted from Judaism to Christianity, he says, " Ye are not 
come unto the mount that might be touched," etc. This is 
a graphic and dramatic exhibition of divine self-revelation 
at Sinai. It was a revelation made to the external senses 
of the Israelites as they stood terrop-stricken at the foot of 
the mountain. The lightnings were flashing, the thunders 
bellowing, and the mountain smoking. The grandeur and 
majesty of the scene were so oppressive that the heroic Mo- 
ses cried out, "I exceedingly fear and quake!" Such, says 
the apostle, was the character of divine revelation under the 
old covenant. "But ye" — who have accepted Jesus Christ 
— " are come unto Mount Sion," etc. Yours is a spiritual 
11 (161) 



162 Abel and Christ. 



manifestation, made to your interior spiritual senses. You 
are identified with an innumerable company of angels, who 
are your " ministering spirits." Your names are not en- 
rolled on human parchments as were those of the first-born 
among the Jews; but they are enrolled in heaven. You 
have as your intercessor not an Aaronic priest, but "Jesus, 
the mediator of the new covenant." And then, rising lo 
the highest point of the ascending climax, the apostle com- 
pletes the contrast by connecting in one sentence the first 
death that occurred with the grandest death that ever took 
place in this world. "To the blood of sprinkling" — the 
blood that flowed from the heart of Christ on Calvary — 
"that speaketh better things than the blood of Abel." In 
this passage the death of Abel, the first martyr, is presented 
in such a way as to suggest that it was the type and proph- 
ecy of the death of Christ. A little reflection will discover 
several points of resemblance. 

I. The death of Abel and the death of Christ were both 
deaths of innocent victims. 

1. In the eleventh chapter of Hebrews we have the de- 
scription of the character of Abel. " By faith Abel offered 
unto God a more excellent sacrifice than Cain, by which he 
obtained witness that he was righteous, God testifying of 
his gifts; and by it he being dead yet speaketh." Our 
Saviour, also referring to him, says, " The blood of righteous 
Abel." High above all other elements of beauty and 
strength in his life, therefore, were his innocency and right- 
eousness. No doubt Adam and Eve, almost crushed under 
the sense of their guilt and punishment, regarded Abel as 
the promised seed of the woman that should bruise the ser- 
pent's head. As they watched his life unfolding each day 
in the beauty of holiness, and radiant with the presence of 
God, their hopes centered in him as their future deliverer. 
These hopes, as w T e know, were delusive; but his character 



Abel and Christ. 163 



was peculiarly symbolic of the simplicity and goodness of 
him who was their deliverer — Jesus Christ — though the 
type but faintly shadowed the immaculate purity of Jesus. 
The sun in the heavens, though bright enough to be the 
light of the world, has its spots; but the Sun of righteous- 
ness is spotless. Not only from disciples and admirers do 
we have testimony of the innocence of Christ, but the judge 
who condemned him said, "I find no fault in him." And 
from the accursed lips of the betrayer we have the testimo- 
mony, "I have betrayed innocent blood." 

And, my friends, as the moral purity of Abel in the be- 
ginning of the world's history was the product of the blood 
of Christ before the tragedy of Calvary, and as it stood 
there pointing forward to the righteousness of our Redeem- 
er, so may we to-day be made clean in heart by that same 
blood, and let it stand in this age as an example of Christ's 
power since his crucifixion. 

2. In the next place, the death of Abel and that of Christ 
agreed in their causes. Why did Cain murder Abel? He 
had not provoked Cain by insulting words. He had done 
nothing worthy of death. He had not threatened the life 
of his brother, nor defrauded him of his property. Why, 
then, did Cain rise up and dye his hands and soul in 
fratricidal blood? We are not left to guess the answer- 
to this question. St. John tells us that he slew him "be- 
cause his own works were evil, and his brother's righteous." 
(1 John iii. 12.) There is an irreconcilable enmity between 
purity and impurity, between good and evil, between right- 
eousness and sin. Abel and Cain were the visible incarna- 
tions of these two principles. Whenever the wicked heart 
of Cain came in contact with the righteous character of 
Abel, the vivid contrast annoyed Cain. It called to remem- 
brance his sin and guilt. The holy light shining in the 
heart of Abel revealed to the gaze of his brother the awful 



164 Abel and Christ. 



darkness of sin in Lis own soul. Whenever Abel was absent 
Cain could throttle the tongue of conscience within; he 
could close all the openings of his soul, and shut out a con- 
sciousness of his deep depravity ; but whenever Abel was 
present, and Cain looked into his calm, pure eyes, the win- 
dows flew open, and conscience began to accuse him as a 
villain. And when finally God testified by a visible sign 
that Abel was righteous and Cain wicked, Cain could en- 
dure it no longer. By some pretext he persuaded Abel to 
accompany him to the field, and there he murdered him, 
The same principles arc at work in the human heart to-day. 
Why do evil men shun the associations of the good? Why 
does the world rejoice to discover some imperfection in the 
character of a Christian? Why does it smile when a Chris- 
tian proves unfaithful to his vows? Because of the hatred 
sin cherishes for holiness. 

The same principle that murdered Abel murdered Christ. 
Four thousand years intervened between the martyrdom of 
the one and the martyrdom of the other ; but the agent in 
both cases was the same — the wickedness of the human 
heart. While righteousness looks down upon sin with feel- 
ings of pity, sin regards righteousness with a murderous 
eye. 

Viewed purely from a human stand-point, the causes of our 
Saviour's death w r ere essentially those that murdered Abel: 
(1) the world's intolerance of such a grandly righteous 
person, and (2) that lofty heroism of soul and uncompro- 
mising devotion to truth in Jesus that would yield to no in- 
tolerance. The world into which the Saviour came, and 
through which he moved, was reeking with depravity. His 
entire life was a constant and public condemnation of that 
world. When wicked men came into his presence they 
could not but feel " how awful goodness is, and virtue in her 
shaoe how lovelv ! " Pharisee and scribe, Sadducec and He- 



Abel and Christ. 165 



radian, each tried to buy him over to his side; but he could 
not be bought nor bribed. They endeavored to throw some 
shadow upon his character, but its pure sunlight could not 
be clouded. They tried to scorch his name with slander, 
but his asbestos robe of purity could not be burned. They 
attempted to entrap him, and they themselves were en- 
trapped. 

The same spirit of opposition to truth and goodness that 
banished Aristides the Just from his native land, and 
pressed the cup of hemlock to the lips of Socrates, now fu- 
rious and enraged, sought to murder Christ. He was not 
hostile to Csesar nor to Judea; he was not an enemy of the 
Sanhedrim, or the temple, or his country ; he was no polit- 
ical aspirant after power; but he was an uncompromising 
foe to sin. Barabbas was opposed to all that was good. 
He was a destructive and disturbing element in society; but 
the cry of the world was, "Kot Barabbas, but Jesus must 
be crucified !" Christ, from his exalted loneliness of purity, 
heard the clamor of the excited multitude for his blood, and 
with awful serenity and grandeur of will he signified his 
consent to die. Individuals of great heroism of spirit, of 
deep convictions, and of force of character, have quailed 
before the alternative, truth or life. Galileo failed at that 
point. A human will unawed by frowns, undisturbed by 
curses, and tranquil amid the terrors of death, is clothed 
with surpassing majesty. Such was the Son of God. Like 
Abel before Cain, so Jesus before the world died, rather than 
compromise truth. Like Abel, also, in the perfection of 
manhood, his threefold nature just fruiting in the excellency 
of wisdom and grace, with majestic meekness he laid his 
life down in self-sacrifice upon the altar of God's truth, and 
baptized it with his blood. 

3. Here we see another point of resemblance between 
Abel and Christ — both being dead, yet speak. 



166 Abel and Christ. 



The body of Abel is silent. Six thousand years his 
tongue has been paralyzed ; but Abel himself — his person- 
ality and life — is not dead nor speechless. His life is im- 
mortal on this side the grave as well as in eternity. Every 
righteous man has two immortalities — the one he takes with 
him into the presence of God, and the other he leaves behind 
to represent him in this world. Abel has thus spoken to 
every age and generation since his martyrdom. He speaks 
to us to-night in favor of moral purity, righteousness, the 
grandeur of serving God, and the glory of uncompromising 
devotion to truth. 

And will any man dare say that Jesus, though crucified 
eighteen hundred years ago, no longer speaks ? Were his last 
words those that fell from his lips on Mount Olivet? When 
his ascension-chariot swiftly carried him to the right-hand 
of God, did it carry him eternally from our world? O no! 
The voice of Jesus since his death has been more forcible 
and persuasive than before his death. His crucifixion has 
only clothed his words with supernatural power. He is 
speaking to-day through almost every language of the hu- 
man race. Hearts that are in this house to-night have 
heard his voice saying, " Thy sins, which are many, are all 
forgiven;" "he being dead, yet speaketh," in tones sweeter 
far than those in which Abel speaks. 

4. Still another point of resemblance between the death 
of Abel and that of Jesus is that both were unexpected. 
Death, in whatever form presented — whether it be the death 
of bird or beast or human being — is thickly shrouded in 
mystery. After an experience of six hundred years the 
world has not grown familiar with it. There is scarcely a 
home at which the rider on the pale horse has not stopped, 
yet we are not accustomed to his presence. There is some- 
thing so tremendously solemn in death that the greatest fa- 
miliarity with it cannot make' us indifferent to its power. 



Abel and Christ. 167 



But what must have been the impressions of surprise and 
wonder which the first death that ever occurred in our 
world made upon the beholders! Adam and Eve were ac- 
quainted with the word "death." They knew by experi- 
ence what spiritual death was; but in its concrete form they 
had never seen it. True, they might have seen a bird drop 
from a limb, and cease to live as it ceased to sing; they 
might have seen, too, some beast of the field lying stiff and 
cold ; but they had never looked on a human body in the 
death-sleep. It is impossible for us to imagine, therefore, 
what surprise filled the hearts of our first parents when they 
found Abel dead. No doubt, as they saw him lying in the 
field where he had been slain by Cain, they thought him 
asleep. But when they called and he did not answer, 
when they shook him and he showed no signs of life, a 
strange sensation must have shot through their hearts. And 
O when they saw the clotted blood upon his once clean 
brow, the mocking paleness of .his face, that blank stare in 
the half-open eye where so recently intelligence beamed, 
that purplish tinge upon the lips where once the ruby and 
the pomegranate flourished, how strangely, how mysteriously 
.surprised they must have felt! How unexpected was such 
an event in their lives! But I think I may say that the 
death of Abel was not a greater surprise to Adam and Eve 
than was the death of Christ to his disciples. 

Often did the words of Jesus fall startlingly upon the 
ears of the twelve. Time and again were they baffled by 
the mystery of his life. Many of his mighty deeds they 
could not understand; but one thing they thought they did 
comprehend, there was one thing of which they were cer- 
tain — he could not die. They had stood by his side and 
heard him rebuke those forces that produce death, and in 
every insiauce they had obeyed him. They had seen him 
heal the most stubborn case of paralysis by a word ; they 



168 Abel and Christ 



had seen the consuming fever fly from the patient at his 
touch ; they had seen death itself, as it held the young 
daughter of Jairus, the widow's son, and Lazarus in its 
iron grip, release its prey at the command of Christ. In- 
deed, every thing about him impressed the disciples that lie 
was the Immortal Being — the One Person over whom death 
had no power. Judas Iscariot, when he betrayed him, never 
dreamed that the Sanhedrim could put him to death. This 
is the reason why the disciples were so terribly shocked 
when on Calvary he gave up the ghost. As the death of 
Abel four thousand years ago had filled his parents with 
bewilderment and surprise, so the death of Jesus was the 
one great surprise to the wondering disciples. 

II. But the points of resemblance between the death of 
Abel and that of Christ are no more marked than the points 
of contrast 

1. Abel's was simply the death of a noble martyr to 
truth. Stephen occupied the same position in the begin- 
ning of the new dispensation. But "the blood of sprink- 
ling" had in it not only the virtue of martyrdom, it was 
also atoning blood. Unlike the death of Abel or Stephen, 
the death of Christ was vicarious — it was in the stead of 
others. Through dying he destroyed death, and delivered 
" them who, through fear of death, were all their life-time 
subject to bondage." 

2. My text tells us also ihat the blood of sprinkling 
speaketh better things than that of Abel. What was the 
speech of Abel's blood? It was the voice whose only cry 
was the cry of vengeance, of terrible retribution for sin. 
"Your brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground," 
saith the Lord to Cain. How attentively w 7 as that voice 
listened to by the ear of Almighty God, and how severe was 
the punishment inflicted! The curse which he pronounced 
upon Cain in answer to the cry of Abel's blood was the 



Abel and Christ, 1C9 



most awful ever laid upon mortal man. Let me read 
it to you from Genesis iv. 11, 12: "And now art thou 
cursed from the earth, which hath opened her mouth to re- 
ceive thy brother's blood from thy hand; when thou tillest 
the ground, it shall not henceforth yield unto thee her 
strength ; a fugitive and a vagabond shalt thou be in the 
earth. And Cain said unto the Lord, My punishment is 
greater than I can bear." And the Lord said : "AVhosoever 
slayeth Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold. 
And the Lord set a mark upon Cain, lest any finding him 
should kill him." Worse than the fate of the wandering 
Jew was that of Cain. Others could plow and sow, and 
reap their golden harvests, but every acre of ground that 
Cain touched was cursed. He, too, could labor and sow, 
but no harvest rewarded his fruitless toil. You can see 
him as he goes forth a lonely wanderer, with tired feet, and 
aching limbs, and gnawing conscience; no friendly voice to 
cheer him, no home to shelter him, no quiet retreat where he 
may rest; "a fugitive and a vagabond," shunning every 
one, shunned by every one, his brother's stained brow and 
pale face haunting him wherever he goes. The birds that 
warble from the overhanging branches of the road-side seem 
to say, as they sing, " Your brother's blood ; " the streams 
which he crosses murmur as they flow, "Your brother's 
blood;" the night-winds sob through the tree-tops, "Your 
brother's blood;" and when the storm gathers, and thun- 
ders are bickering, and the tempest is howling, thunder and 
rain and tempest are woven into one hellish chorus, sweep- 
ing through his conscience the awful refrain, "Your broth- 
er's blood!" He flies to other lands; but what exile from 
himself can flee? The hoarse raven still croaks in his 
heart, "Your brother's blood!" He rushes madly into the 
midst of danger, but the brand upon his brow wards off' 
every well-aimed dart. "Shall I kill myself?" he asks. 



170 Abel and Christ. 



" What help in that? I cannot kill my sin, if soul be soul; 
nor can I kill my shame ; no, nor by living, lire it down. 

The days will grow to weeks, the weeks to months, 
The months will add themselves and make the years. 
The years will roll into centuries, 
And mine will ever be a name of scorn." 

This was the voice of the blood of Abel against Cain, a 
voice so charged with retribution that in anguish he cried 
out, " My punishment is greater than I can bear! " 

But ah, how different the voice of the " blood of sprink- 
ling that speaketh better things," and more mighty than that 
of Abel! The voice of righteous Abel's blood was "Venge- 
ance, vengeance!" but the voice of the blood of Christ is 
" Forgiveness, forgiveness! " 

The blood of sprinkling is many-voiced. If you turn to 
your Bibles you will see that it speaks a varied language; 
but in every instance, to those who will listen, it is the voice 
of love. To such men as Cain, bending under the weight 
of remorse, it says, " By the shedding of blood is remission 
of sins." To him who groans, as did Paul, under the bond- 
age of carnal corruption, it says, "We are redeemed by the 
precious blood of Jesus." To him who is grappling with 
the great question, How may I be just before God? it says, 
" We are justified by his blood." To the Christian strug- 
gling after higher attainments, and groaning after perfec- 
tion in grace, it says, " We are washed, we are sanctified by 
his blood." To the soul dissatisfied with this world, and 
looking anxiously toward the heavenly hills, and longing to 
have a part in the eternal inheritance, it says, " These are 
they who have washed their robes and made them white in 
the blood of the Lamb." Yes, " the blood of sprinkling 
speaketh better things than that of Abel." Abel's blood 
tells of punishment and an eternal hell, but the blood of 
sprinkling speaks of salvation and immortality with God. 



Abel and Christ. 171 



There is power in blood. It clothes some men in royal 
purple, and seats them upon thrones of empire. It is a 
patent of earthly nobility. Theie was power even in the 
blood of sheep and of goats, when sanctified upon Jewish 
altars and made efficacious by the power of God. There 
was power, too, in the blood sprinkled upon the door-posts 
of the Israelites in the land of Egypt — power that averted 
the hand of the destroying angel. There was power in the 
blood of the heart of the noble Bruce, when thrown into 
the ranks of the Scotch soldiers, that impelled them to hero- 
ic deeds of daring. The blood spilled upon the battle-field 
of the Alamo still speaks in power to the hearts of Texans. 
There is power in the blood that flows from the heart of 
the patriot in defense of home and liberty. 

O if there be on this terrestrial sphere 

A boon, an offering Heaven holds dear, 

'Tis the last libation liberty draws 

From the heart that bleeds and breaks in its cause. 

But more mightily than the blood of kings, or of bulls and 
goats, or of patriotic hearts, speaks " the blood of sprink- 
ling" that flowed from the heart of Jesus on Calvary. 
Every drop is atoning blood. It tells of a peace that pass- 
eth understanding, joy unutterable, glory immortal. 

One drop of Abel's blood upon our souls will sink them 
into an endless hell, but one drop of "the blood of sprink- 
ling" will lift them up into tne eternal heavens. 

My hearers, trample not upon the blood of Christ. 
Consider not the blood of the covenant an unholy thing. 
But by faith let it wash, cleanse, and sanctify you from 
sin, and let your song ever be 

Dear dying Lamb, thy precious blood 

Shall never lose its power, 
Till all the ransomed Church of God 

Be saved to sin no more. 



The Great Assassiijatior), 



"What is this that thou hast done? " (Genesis iii. 13.) 

IT is a dark picture which I unveil to your vision to-day 
— woman shorn of her purity ; man bereft of his birth- 
right, cowering in the midst of a blighted and blasted para- 
dise. As Adam stands there, bowed under the weight of 
his own shame, and Eve at his side, with the rose fading 
from her cheek and the lily withering upon her brow, while 
the fairer flowers of innocence and purity, all stained and 
robbed of their perfume, lie dying in her heart, Almighty 
God startles the already awakened conscience of the wom- 
an with the question of the text: "What is this that thou 
hast done?" What had she clone? She had plucked the 
fruit of the forbidden tree truly, but she had done infi- 
nitely more: she had prevailed upon her husband to unite 
with her in the disobedience ; and together they had been 
guilty of an act that ruined a world. That one step opened 
the flood-gates of evil, and its poisonous streams pouring 
forth soon inundated the whole earth. And as God him- 
self revealed to her mental vision the long procession of 
woes, miseries, heart-aches, and sorrows that must through 
all time march up and down our globe because of her sin, 
no doubt appalling horror seized upon the woman's entire 
being, and the question, "What is this that thou hast 
done?" thundered in her ears long after the gates of para- 
dise had closed upon the guilty pair. 

We, her descendants, are assembled in this house of wor- 
ship to-day under the shadow of a great bereavement. A 
(172) 



The Great Assassination. 173 

nation stands weeping over the lifeless form of her Chief 
Executive. A few days ago when the electric telegraph 
flashed across the wires the thrilling words, " The President 
is dead!" fifty millions of human hearts were touched by 
the message. And as we try to trace the evils of the sad 
occurrence — beginning with the heart-broken wife, the fa- 
therless children, the sonless mother, and following it on as 
it affects every vein of commerce and every artery of in- 
dustry, every department of Government and every func- 
tion of civil service, until it reaches the very heart of the 
Constitution of the United States — fifty million eyes turn 
toward that prison-house in Washington, and fifty million 
human tongues cry out to that closely guarded criminal, 
"What is this that thou hast done?" But the question 
does not stop there. Almighty God comes into this repub- 
lic, and while its flags are at half-mast, and its national and 
State capitols are draped in mourning, and its bells are toll- 
ing, he says — not simply to that prisoner in Washington, 
but to the entire nation — "What is this that thou hast 
done?" 

My friends, we ought to try to answer honestly to-day 
this question : 

I. Who is responsible before God for the assassination of 
President Garfield? I know and you know whom this 
Government will make answerable. Every eye is fastened 
upon one man as the guilty party. But God goes deeper 
than human laws in fixing accountability; and when it 
has been decided that Guiteau is responsible for the mur- 
der of the President, the matter should be pushed farther 
still, and we should ask, Who is responsible for Guiteau? 
Already this deeper inquiry is engaging the enlightened 
thought and conscience of the age. Some men and a few 
journals, looking only upon the surface, have dismissed the 
whole question by saying it was simply the act of a crazed 



174 The Great Assassination. 

and disordered brain seizing upon a current theme; but 
there was so much " method in the madness " that the 
thinking mind is not satisfied with that explanation. There 
must be something behind the desperate recklessness as its 
producing cause; and it is that "something" which points 
in the direction of the real power which murdered Garfield. 
Guiteau himself, in his monomaniacal condition, is the 
effect of a cause. He is the legitimate product of certain 
intellectual and moral forces in society; and the same 
cause that produced him also produced the man who shot 
at him through the prison-bars. In the great question of 
the text, then, "What is this that thou hast done?" that 
word thou refers not simply to Guiteau, but to those who 
originated and keep in motion the moral forces that gave 
birth to Guiteau. 

1. And prominent among these forces is the present form 
of civil service. Ten thousand offices are the spoils of a 
great- presidential battle. These offices in the hands of the 
successful party are powerful instruments of violence, cor- 
ruption, and bribery. In the scramble for them truth has 
perjured herself, principle has sold out to avarice, justice 
has been sacrificed to lust and greed, and the ballot-box has 
been stripped of its sacredness, so that it is no longer the 
expression of the will of the people. Patriotism — one of 
the grandest principles that ever fired the human breast, 
and which found a welcome home in the hearts of the im- 
mortal framers of our Constitution — has been dragged from 
its lofty pedestal, and lies besmeared w T ith the mud and 
slime of political partisanship. " Be right rather than be 
President" is an aphorism of a past age. The great strug- 
gle in politics is not for the welfare of the whole country, 
but for the success of a party; and the natural consequence 
is that when he who fights for a party sees that party vic- 
torious, and yet fails to receive his share of the spoils of 



The Great Assassination. 175 

battle, he becomes reckless in his disappointment, and is 
ready for the commission of desperate deeds. 

2. But there is another force now at work in society 
which, added to the one already mentioned, must tend to 
produce hundreds of such men as Guiteau. I refer to the 
prevailing and growing unbelief in the future punishment 
of sin. This heresy is ably and boldly championed in the 
present age. It is a sweet morsel to the carnal heart — 
sweeter than honey to the palate of the soul that has been 
vitiated by sin. The progress that it is making and the 
power that it wields may be seen in the fact that it is not 
only quickly seized upon by the worst classes, but some of 
the strongest and most popular pulpit orators of the day 
are boldly proclaiming it. The logical result of disbelief 
in future punishment is a hot-bed for crimes of deepest dye. 
If death is nothing, then why should I not get rid of the 
man I hate, by pistol, sword, or poison — particularly if, reck- 
less in my disappointment in securing place and money, I 
care not whether I live or die? 

If death were nothing, and naught after death; 

If when men died at once they ceased to be, 

Returning to the barren womb of nothing 

"Whence first they sprung, then might the debauchee 

Untrembling mouth the heavens; then might the drunkard 

Reel over his full bowl, and when 't is drained 

Fill up another to the brim, and laugh 

At the poor bugbear, death ; then might the wretch 

That 's weary of the world and tired of life 

At once give each inquietude the slip 

By stealing out of being when he pleased, 

And by what way, whether by hemp or steel. 

But if there 's a hereafter — 

And that there is, conscience, uninfluenced 

And suffered to speak out, tells every man — 

Then must it be an awful thing to die. 

Yes, if death ends all there is of life, or if it means only 



176 The Great Assassination. 



glory and " eternal hope," let me wreak my revenge and 
go; but if after death there is an incorruptible and omnis- 
cient Judge, at whose bar I shall be arraigned, O then, if I 
am a criminal, it is a solemn thing to die! 

Can you not see what a power for evil is this repudiation 
of future punishment? But a few days since I read this 
sentence in a leading New York paper: "A careful survey 
of the murders and great felonies committed in the chief 
cities of the United States during the last ten years shows 
that a heavy fraction of the perpetrators were atheists and 
freethinkers." Not many months ago one of the most no- 
torious outlaws known in the criminal annals of the West 
said to the crowd of men and women, preachers and po- 
licemen, whom curiosity had drawn together for a look at 
the human monster, "lam a Bob Ingersoll man ; " and 
nobody doubted that he spoke the truth. 

These two forces — the prostitution of patriotism to the 
base ends of partyism and the disbelief in future punish- 
ment — have wrapped up within them the seeds of anarchy 
and ruin, and contain the elements of decay for any nation 
into whose soil they have been dropped. It is true that the 
Decalogue and the Sermon on the Mount are the only solid 
bases for the support of national prosperity. And when I 
call to mind the fact that thousands in our great cities will 
pay one dollar to hear a brilliant orator blaspheme and re- 
vile the blessed book that contains these grand principles, 
I am not surprised that the malignant forces of society 
should give birth to a man who would recklessly dare the 
atrocious crime of assassinating the President of the great- 
est country on the globe. 

Let us return, then, to the question, Who is responsi- 
ble for the state of things that produced Guiteau? You 
will say: " Those men who believe in infidel principles and 
disseminate them among the people; they are the guilty 



The Great Assassination. 177 

parties." Yes, they are guilty; but in that word "thou" 
God points to still another class: 

3. To those men whose voices are not raised in solemn 
and earnest protest against the damning sin of society. Si- 
lence on our part in the presence of crime makes us partieeps 
crimuiis. To stand by and see a wicked thing done and 
not do all in our power to prevent it, is to consent to it. 
This is the doctrine of the Bible: "To him that knoweth 
to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin." In tracing 
the causes of any evil, and in fixing responsibility, we must 
go to the fountain-head. A man in North Carolina was 
for many years a distiller. The result was that he not only 
drank freely himself, but that his sons, as they grew up 
around him, became habitual drinkers also. At last, in try- 
ing to cross a river while in a state of intoxication, one of 
them was drowned. After several days his body was found. 
But O in what a horrible condition ! the eye-balls gone from 
their sockets, only a part of the ears left, while fingers and 
toes had been eaten off by the hungry denizens of the 
stream. As the father, broken-hearted, gazed upon the 
mangled corpse of his child, he cried out in irrepressible an- 
guish, "What killed my boy? O what killed my boy?" And 
for the first time in his life, he said, there came home to 
him the startling question, "What is this that thou hast 
done?" He had never warned his son. His silence and 
his example had made him an accomplice in the murder of 
his own child. Fathers, do you feel the force of this great 
principle? 

Occasionally a community is startled by the commission 
of a terrible crime. A man in a passion has murdered his 
friend. When the case is investigated, it is ascertained that 
the young man took a social glass with his comrade; thence 
they went to a gambling-room, where he lost heavily; 
whisky had frenzied his brain, and in an instant his hands 
12 



178 The Great Assassination. 

were red with his companion's blood. Who is responsible 
for that murder? " The man who committed it," you say. 
Yes, that is what the law says; but who gave the license to 
him who sold the poison that made a homicide of the man? 
Ah! "What is this that thou hast done?" Ye voters, ye 
legislators, whose voices are not raised against the evil of 
licensing crime, ye, in the sight of God, have done this 
wicked deed as truly as the man who fired the pistol ! 

Whenever a government licenses gambling-houses and 
the sale of intoxicating liquors, that government must share 
responsibility with the perpetrators of crimes committed 
because of these evils; and any community that has the 
power of exterminating them, and does not do it, that com- 
munity is accountable for the wickedness wrought because 
of their existence. 

And now this same principle may be applied to the mur- 
der of the President. If there had not been party strife 
between the law-makers of the country, simply because 
both sides could not have their own way at the same time; 
if zeal for self-aggrandizement and party power had been 
held in abeyance to the higher principles of patriotism and 
the good of the whole country, do you believe Garfield would 
have been shot? No ; you do not believe it. Are not, then, 
the men who can crush out these evils and will not as 
morally responsible as the immediate assassin? And are not 
our people who have the name of God inserted in the Con- 
stitution, who believe in him and swear by him, yet allow his 
name to be execrated and ridiculed all over the country — 
are they not accountable for the wickedness so engendered? 
I cannot but admire the spirit of the reply of the authorities 
of a Canadian city when applied to for a public building 
for Bob Ingersoll's use: "There maybe no God in the 
United States, but there is one in Canada; and we have no 
halls to rent for the purpose of blaspheming his name." 



The Great Assassination. 179 

Suppose such a declaration should come from every town 
and city in our broad land, would we have these Guiteaus 
in society only awaiting opportunity for the commission of 
bloody deeds? No. Is not our own Government, then, at 
least partially responsible for the assassination of its own 
President? O if this national calamity will but open the 
national eye to " the exceeding sinfulness of sin," James A. 
Garfield will not have died in vain ! 

4. But in considering to-day our great loss, I am im- 
pressed with another important lesson: the fearful possibil- 
ity of evil lodged in each human breast. We do not real- 
ize the depth of our capacity for sin in ordinary experi- 
ences, but only as we stand face to face with some flagrant, 
atrocious crime. The President's death has not only 
thrown a shadow over every part of the United States, 
but it has touched more or less deeply all the great em- 
pires of earth. And yet that shock is but the momentum of 
one human heart and will. One man has agitated the moral 
sensibilities of an entire world. What pow T er of self-reve- 
lation in a single act! And that which gives deeper em- 
phasis to this revelation is that the power which executed 
it and the motives which led to the murder lie within each 
one of us. As we meditate upon this great crime, there 
suddenly yawns in each of our hearts an awful chasm. 
Deeper and deeper we look into the capacity for evil in 
our own natures. Why has the fratricidal Cain been per- 
mitted a record on the pages of inspiration? why did God 
leave a place in his book for the dark sin of David and 
the treachery of Judas? why, I ask, except as lenses through 
which we might look down into the possibilities of evil that 
lie dormant in each one of us, and which, if the occasion 
should be powerful enough, would arouse these possibilities 
into actualities? To take the life of a President or assassi- 
nate the Czar is a manifestation of great wickedness; but 



180 The Great Assassination. 

some men — ay, many men — are murdering every day that 
which is greater than czars and presidents. They are kill- 
ing virtue and truth, purity and love; stabbing the God- 
ward elements of their being and draining the life-blood of 
splendid immortalities. Friends, let us examine ourselves. 
5. Amid the many alarming thoughts suggested by the 
solemnities of the hour, however, the truth that God is in- 
finitely compassionate in his dealings with the guilty comes 
to us with the power and sweetness of divine consolation. 
Adam and Eve deserved to die; and if annihilation had 
been their fate, then and there every element of justice 
would have approved the penalty. Yet, the mercy of God 
seized upon their guilt and used it as the occasion for in- 
troducing a new kingdom of forces into the moral universe 
— the meditorial kingdom of Christ — through which God's 
glory should be manifested in infinite splendor, and man 
himself lifted upon a higher plane than that of original 
creation. This prerogative of Providence — to make evil a 
minister of good, " to make the wrath of man to praise 
him " — is our hope in the midst of sorrow. This is the 
rainbow which faith sees arching above the dark cloud of 
a nation's grief. To our limited vision it seems a great ca- 
lamity that Garfield died. We cannot understand why the 
prayers of fifty million loyal hearts in behalf of their suf- 
fering President were not answered. But if we look at it 
all in the light of divine providence, we can see how a na- 
tional misfortune may be turned into a national blessing. 
I do not believe that any decree of God directed that assas- 
sin's bullet; it was, as I have already said, a corrupt hu- 
man heart that conceived the idea, and a demoniac will 
that carried it into execution. But I do believe that just as 
God used the yellow fever epidemic to lift the veil from our 
eyes and let us see a brother's love in Northern beneficence, 
so on this occasion will he make our universal and unfeigned 



The Great Assassination. 181 

sorrow over the death of our President discover to the 
North the patriotic loyalty beating deep down in the great 
Southern heart. O let us trust that this shocking assassi- 
nation will constitute an epoch in our history! Let us 
hope that in that new-made grave in Lakeview Cemetery, 
Ohio, which waits to receive its distinguished tenant, there 
shall also be buried all the sectional strife and bitterness 
which have hitherto alienated patriots of the North from 
patriots of the South; and let us pray that ere the green 
grass covers the new mound of clay the hands of those that 
wore " the blue and the gray " shall be clasped in a na- 
tional and unbroken brotherhood. The sacrifices necessary 
for such a consummation may be great ; but if in the prov- 
idence of God it is thus effected, President Garfield from 
his home among the angels would ratify the covenant and 
conseut to the sacrifices. 

I have endeavored this morning to enforce some of the 
lessons which I believe God would impress upon our minds 
through this bereavement. Others still crowd in upon my 
thought, but I will not detain you long enough for their 
discussion. 

And now, while we as a part of the nation draw near, 
and with uncovered heads stand around the bier of our 
dead President; while we note the utter emaciation through 
suffering of his once robust and manly form ; and while we 
realize that he who a few months ago took the oath of of- 
fice amid the shouts and congratulations of a great people 
now lies before us an embalmed corpse, pale and lifeless, 
his ears forever closed to the voice of praise, his eyes for- 
ever shut against visions of earthly fame, the pomp and 
pageantry of power, the circumstance of office — we are 
deeply impressed with the vanity of this world's greatness. 

Earth's highest glory ends in " Here he lies," 
And "Dust to dust" concludes her noblest song. 



182 The Great Assassination. 

If, then, this is the end of all men, rich or poor, great or 
lowly, let the living lay it to heart. We may not die at 
the hand of a murderer, no accident may hurry our souls 
into the land of spirits, but sooner or later we must all 
close our eyes upon the fleeting scenes of time and open 
them upon the sublime realities of eternity. Let us, my 
friends, get ready to meet this trying hour by anchoring all 
our hopes upon the " Rock of Ages " to-day. President 
Garfield had endeavored to do this; for many years, no 
doubt,, he had been a Christian. Judged from a party 
stand-point, he may have had his faults; but the escutch- 
eon of his religious profession seems to have been as stain- 
less as that of a large majority of Christ's disciples. He 
not only believed in Jesus, he preached Jesus to the peo- 
ple; and his pastor, who ought to know better than we, 
says that he was preeminently a good man. Soon after he 
■was shot, and at the time that the keenness of the wrong 
he was suffering must have cut deepest in his heart; when 
his boy, standing by his bleeding form, said, " Father, let 
me go and kill the man," he replied: " No, no, my son; 
that is not our business." And during his prostration, on 
one occasion, when the possible result of his wound was 
brought before him with more force than usual, he said, 
" I am not afraid to die." Indeed, throughout those eighty 
days of incessant suffering — although by the electric tele- 
graph — we stood by his bedside and listened to every word 
that fell from his lips, yet not a murmur of wrath was 
heard against the man who shot him, not a complaint that 
he must be cut down in the zenith of his greatness, but on 
the contrary there was at all times the exhibition of a 
meekness, a resignation, a submission to Providence, which 
could have been born only of the religion of Christ. 

In his death we behold the triumph of Christianity over 
the last enemy. When, just before he breathed his last, he 



The Great Assassination. 183 

put his hand upon his heart and said, ''What a pain! O 
Swain, can't you help me?" it was the last throe that ever 
quivered through his worn frame. It was the signal of an 
eternal release from suffering; for in a moment more, as 
sweetly and quietly as a child hushed to rest upon its moth- 
er's bosom, he fell asleep. " The majestic brain was tired, 
and the fluttering heart grew still." 

All is over and done; 

Render thanks to the Giver, 

America., for thy son. 

Let the bell be tolled: 

Render thanks to the Giver, 

And render him to the mold. 

Let the hell be tolled, 

And a deeper knell in the heart be knolled. 

Hush! the dead-march wails in the people's ears; 

The dark crowd moves, and there are sobs and tears. 

The black earth yawns; the mortal disappears — 

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. 

He is gone, who seemed so great — 

Gone, but nothing can bereave him 

Of the force he made his own 

Being here; and we believe him 

Something far advanced in state, 

And that he wears a truer crown 

Than any wreath that man can weave him. 

But speak no more of his renown; 

Lay your earthly fancies down, 

And in the solemn grave-yard leave him. 

God accept him, Christ receive him. 



An Abundant Entrance, 

" For so an entrance shall be ministered unto you abundantly into 
the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." 
(2 Peter i. 11.) 

THESE words stand in. immediate connection with the 
preceding verses. We are therefore greatly aided in 
our interpretation by the light that gleams from the con- 
text. The thought of the text is partly an encouragement 
and partly a conclusion drawn from principles that had just 
been stated. 

Peter opens the chapter by announcing that one great 
object of all "the exceeding great and precious promises of 
God " is that we might be partakers of the divine nature — 
be assimilated in moral purity to the matchless purity of 
God ; but he says this is not the ultimate in the Christian 
life. Purity of character is but the beginning of a long 
line, the first link in an endless chain, the first rung in a 
celestial ladder whose topmost round leans against God's 
throne. "Besides this," says he — that is, in addition to re- 
generation — "giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue; 
and to virtue, knowledge; and to knowledge, temperance; 
and to temperance, patience; and to patience, godliness; 
and to godliness, brotherly kindness ; and to brotherly kind- 
ness, charity." The idea here presented is that religion is 
a grand addition-table — virtue added to virtue and grace to 
grace in endless succession and progression. 

The importance of this constant accretion of spiritual en- 
ergy the apostle urges from the consideration that it is the 
basis of all stability in Christian character and the peren- 
nial source of fruitfulness in the Christian life; whereas, the 
(184) 



An Abundant Entrance. 125 

absence of this continued addition of grace to grace results 
in failure and final apostasy. And then he takes another 
and higher step. " Not only," says Jie " does this congress 
of Christian virtues in your life affect your present welfare, 
but it reaches beyond into the invisible and eternal world, 
and determines the nature of your deathless destiny. If 
you do these things, Peter says you shall not only not fall 
here, but "an entrance shall be ministered unto you abun- 
dantly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Sav- 
iour Jesus Christ." 

The first thought I see presented in the text is, 
1. Gradation of rank in the (/lory of the redeemed in 
heaven. There will not be uniformity in the allotments of 
reward to the righteous. Each inhabitant of heaven will 
not have precisely the same quantity of glory or honor or 
enjoyment, although it will be of the same quality. All 
will be free from sin, suffering, and death; and all will be 
rewarded, but not equally rewarded. Just as on earth there 
are some who occupy commanding positions in society — 
offices of higher trust and greater responsibility than others 
— so it will be in heaven. 

In the Bible that world is revealed to us as a perfectly 
organized society. In the text it is called an " everlasting- 
kingdom ;" and as a kingdom implies a ruler, subjects, laws, 
and government, no doubt heaven is a grand theocracy, the 
ideal government, organized upon the greatest truths and 
sublimest principles in the universe. It affords territory 
sufficient for the most unresting nature; is a place where 
affairs shall be consummated, events shajDed, combinations 
effected, interests pursued, and destinies achieved. And 
just as in human governments some occupy higher and oth- 
ers subordinate places, so it will be — must be — in heaven's 
ideal government. This idea is presented to us all through 
the Scriptures. We read of princedoms, of powers, of 



186 An Abundant Entrance. 

thrones and principalities, each of which represents a dif- 
ference in extent of territory. We also read of cherubim 
and seraphim, angels and archangels, representing so many 
grades of dignity and authority in the ranks of the celestial 
hierarchy. In the parable of the pounds, our Saviour re- 
veals this truth in saying that one man shall be ruler of ten 
cities, and another over five cities. He also tells us that 
there are " many mansions " in his Father's house, which 
does not mean that there will simply be plenty of room 
and variety in the architecture of heaven, but also that 
there will be a difference of degrees in the rewards of the 
saved. And the apostle Paul, who, as you know, was per- 
mitted to make a visit to the eternal world and return, says 
as "one star differeth from another star in glory, so also is 
the resurrection." Just as, when we turn our eyes toward 
the midnight heavens, we behold stars of the first, second, 
and fourth magnitudes — the light of some discernible only 
through the telescope, others burning like diamond points 
in space, and others still shining like evening lamps — so 
says the apostle will it be in eternity. The quality of glory 
must be the same, but there will be a difference in the de- 
grees of its brilliancy. 

1. The standard of promotion in the heavenly society, I 
doubt not, will be altogether unlike that by which this 
world usually confers its distinctions. In human society it 
is not unfrequently the case that we see men occupying 
lofty seats of authority and influence who obtain and hold 
such positions only because they have money. There are 
many worshipers of the almighty dollar in this world, but 
no lovers of mammon in heaven. Other men secure high 
places here simply because they possess influential friends ; 
still others because they are experts in fraud and corrup- 
tion — men utterly destitute of moral principle being some- 
times-lifted to most exalted positions. But in heaven the 



An Abundant Entrance 187 

basis of elevation will be, first, moral purity; and second, 
good works; and third, intellectual culture. In proportion 
to his strength of holiness and grandeur of mental grasp 
will a man, amid the splendid destinies of eternity, occupy 
a throne or sit upon a ibotstool. This naturally introduces 
us to the next thought : 

II. The estate of glory into which we shall enter at death 
will be determined by our attainments in this life. There 
is an intimate connection between time and eternity. The 
experiences of the soul in God's grace here will not differ 
from its experiences in heaven except in degree. Death 
does not interrupt the power of God in the heart, nor does 
it in the least affect the spiritual constitution. Moral prin- 
ciples are unchangeable. The conditions of joy and bless- 
edness are the same in heaven as on earth ; and the differ- 
ence between heaven and earth, so far as the Christian is 
concerned, is simply a difference in external surroundings. 
A Christian man has the germ of heaven imbedded in his 
soul while still here; and eternal life amid the princedoms 
of God's everlasting kingdom will be but the realization of 
possibilities that to-day tremble and thrill within his heart. 
" Grace is but the seed of glory, and glory is but the ma- 
turity of grace. Grace is the bud of glory ; glory is grace 
full-blown. Grace is the blossom of glory; glory is the 
ripe fruit of grace. Grace is the infant of glory; glory 
the perfection of grace." Heaven is the grand harvest 
reaped from seeds sown in this life; and just as the man 
who sows liberally shall reap liberally, and he who sows 
sparingly shall reap sparingly, so the position, whether 
high or low, which the Christian will occupy when he en- 
ters heaven will correspond exactly with his attainments 
while in this life. 

1. The wisdom of this arrangement is at once recognized. 
Suppose there should be uniformity in the rewards of the 



188 An Abundant Entrance. 

good — that the man converted upon his death-bed at the 
age of eighty could enter into as glorious an inheritance as 
that of the Christian who had borne the burden and heat 
of sixty years in God's service — what would be the re- 
sult? 

(a) Evidently, it would paralyze every effort to do good 
in this life. The moment a man is converted he is meet for 
heaven. But tell that man that his quantity of glory is 
then and there unchangeably fixed ; that he cannot add one 
iota to it by zeal, consecration, and labor for God, and he 
will at once ask, " Why, then, should I strive earnestly for 
the faith of the gospel? " So, on the other hand, tell a man 
he may put off his return to God until the shadows of death 
begin to gather about him, and that he can then enter into 
as glorious a reward as though he had served his Maker all 
his life, and he will reason, " Why need I be in haste about 
renouncing sin?" But let it be known that every day of 
consecration contributes to the grandeur of the heavenly 
reward, that every stroke against evil here helps to build a 
throne over yonder, th'at each soul brought to Christ repre- 
sents a new star in the crown of rejoicing, and we have a 
grand stimulus to Christian activity. The great white 
throne is ablaze with prizes of. immortal worth, yet differ- 
ing in value: the infinite treasure-house of eternitv is crowd- 
ed with diadems made brilliant with gems of celestial 
beauty; and God says that in proportion to our fidelity in 
this life will these be bestowed or withheld. Is it not an 
inspiration to tell the wrestler that the moments are pass- 
ing and there is a garland still to be won ? to tell the war- 
rior that the shades of night are gathering and the victory 
is not yet complete? to tell the pilgrim that the sun is sink- 
ing and there are higher heights to be scaled? Is it not a 
wise arrangement and a powerful stimulus to entire conse- 
cration to tell me that each hour here may add a jewel to 



An Abundant Entrance. 189 

my crown, a plume to my wings, a city to my scepter of 
authority in eternity? 

(b) Besides this, to give a uniform reward to all who are 
saved would outrage our most exalted ideas of justice. For 
example, look at such a man as Paul. The splendid gifts 
with which he was endowed by nature, his grand attain- 
ments in intellectual pursuits, the glowing love of his great, 
manly heart, all these in his young manhood he laid at 
the feet of Jesus the Christ; and from that moment on, 
through long years of envy, slander, persecution, hunger, 
and thirst, he was faithful to his Lord, until at last he 
sealed his fidelity with the blood of his own martyrdom. 
Now, I ask, would it not violate every principle of justice 
within you if God should give to Paul a reward no greater 
than that which was given to the thief converted in the death- 
agony of the cross? Or, take a person who begins in child- 
hood by giving his heart to God. He draws nearer and nearer 
to him every day, growing in grace as he grows in years, 
until finally at a ripe old age his sun of life dips below the 
horizon of time, its departing rays kindling the entire firm- 
ament into beauty. Will such a life as that enter into ex- 
actly the same degree of glory as that of a man who from 
boyhood to three-score years and ten has served the devil, 
but whose soul, scarred and stained and almost destroyed 
by sin, is barely saved through a death-bed repentance? 
The eternal fitness of things which God has revealed an- 
swers, " No ! " 

(c) But again, I see the wisdom of proportioning our fut- 
ure rewards to our present attainments, because there is thus 
presented a field of activity worthy of the noblest elements 
of human nature. One of the strongest passions of man, 
and one that carries with it a dozen others equally strong, 
is ambition — an unquenchable aspiration after some real or 
imaginary good. We usually reckon it among the vices of 



190 An Abundant Entrance. 

human nature; but it is not wrong in itself. Only when it 
centers upon unworthy objects does ambition become a sin. 
Christianity wages an interminable warfare against the 
unrighteous ambition which impels the warrior to wade 
through blood to a throne or crown, or drives the states- 
man forward in the sacrifice of principle and character for 
position in office. The curse of God rests upon such an 
ambition ; and it is destined, sooner or later, to die in chains 
or fret out its life beating against the bleak rocks of some 
lonely island of exile. You remember the sad and bitter 
but wholesome advice which Shakespeare makes Wolsey 
speak to Cromwell while suffering the deep agonies of dis- 
appointed ambition : 

When I am forgotten, as I shall be, 
And sleep in dull, cold marble, where no mention 
Of me more must be heard of, say I taught thee — 
$ay Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, 
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honor, 
Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in — 
A sure and safe one, though thy master missed it. 
Mark but my fall and that that ruined me. 
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition! 
By that sin fell the angels. How can man then, 
The image of his Maker, hope to win by't? 

But Christianity does not say," Fling away ambition." On 
the contrary, she gives to it the very broadest scope. Throw- 
ing open the pearly gates to the Eternal City, she unveils to 
its eagle-eyed vision estates ever deepening in majesty and 
widening in glory, and says : " Expend your capital here ; 
seek the loftiest throne and highest rank, though unworthy 
of the lowest and humblest." 

There are Christians who tell us they will be satisfied if 
they can get into heaven upon any terms, their only ambi- 
tion being to escape hell; but the person who makes such 
a confession ought to blush in doing so. Shame on that 



An Abundant Entrance 191 

child of God who is willing to be picked up, a shipwrecked 
mariner on life's ocean, and, dripping and half drowned, 
carried by some pitying angel and seated just inside the 
jasper walls! Rather aspire to stand among the dignitaries 
of heaven, a triumphant hero and conqueror in life's great 
conflict. 

This leads me to notice, 

III. The abundant entrance w r hich is ministered to the 
successful and victorious Christian " into the everlasting 
kingdom." 

1. The first meaning which I see in that expression, " an 
abundant entrance," is a triumphant death. As we watch 
by the bedside of the dying, so unsatisfactory is their testi- 
mony sometimes that all we can say of them is, " We hope 
they are saved." But the man who has been faithful to 
God from the beginning of life till its close dies amid the 
splendid dawnings of an eternal day. The valley of death's 
shadow through which he passes is illumined by the pres- 
ence of Jesus, and the air is quivering with the movement 
of snowy wings. Pain may rack his body and disease par- 
alyze his tongue, so that he cannot utter the words w T e are 
longing to hear; but the calm, sweet smile which lingers 
about his lips, and the strange but radiant expression which 
beams on us from his eyes, tell us that the beauty and glory, 
the light and music of heaven are already bursting upon 
his vision. Death has been robbed of its envenomed sting, 
the grave mourns over its forfeited victory, and the heir of 
immortality sweeps upward rejoicing. 

2. But this abundant entrance signifies something even 
more glorious than a triumphant death. It also means thr.l 
the soul shall enter heaven perfect and complete in all the 
will of God. 

There are members of the Church who are so idle, so 
half-hearted, so worthless, so spasmodic in their efforts at 



192 An Abundant Entrance. 

the Christian life, that it is impossible to tell whether they 
will be saved or lost. Much of their time is spent in lay- 
ing up treasures on earth, and some of them accumulate 
large temporal fortunes; but in the gold and silver that 
pass current in eternity they are little better than paupers, 
having just a sufficiency to prevent actual spiritual star- 
vation. If such persons reach heaven at all, they will 
barely enter. As the apostle expresses it, they will be 
" saved as by fire " — the hand of infinite charity snatching 
them, like the dying thief, from the talons of demons, lift- 
ing them out of the very funnel of a fiery doom. But not 
so with the Christian who has " given all diligence to make 
his calling and election sure." With faith matured into 
its fullest proportions and soaring high, with hope trem- 
bling amid the glad fruitions of an immortal life and on 
silvery wing sweeping into the atmosphere of the celestial, 
with love in his heart filling it to bursting with the undying 
music of eternity, he is meet for the heavenly inheritance. 

3. To this perfect Christian there shall be ministered like- 
wise the abundant entrance 01 a royal welcome. "What ad- 
mirer of chivalry, of heroism, of patriotism, does not feel 
his enthusiasm kindle into a burning flame as he reads, even 
after the lapse of half a century, the account of America's 
reception of Lafayette. In his distant home, amid the 
vine-clad hills of France, he read of the struggle of the 
American colonies. Though but a boy yet in his teens, his 
noble heart beat in sympathy with the oppressed. Surren- 
dering the charms of Paris life and the French court, and 
tearing himself from the enjoyment of his beautiful and 
loving wife, he crossed the ocean. Laying his gifted mind, 
his martial skill, his young and vigorous manhood upon the 
altar of American liberty, he fought gallantly until Colum- 
bia achieved her freedom ; and then, and not till then, did 
he sheathe his sw T ord and return to his native land. But 



An Abundant Entrance. 193 

after more than thirty years had passed he determined once 
more to visit the people whose cause he had espoused in the 
days of his youth. With what joy did America receive 
him! The fleet that should bear him to our shores was 
watched for with eagerness by the eye of an entire nation. 
A committee of reception awaited him at Staten Island, and 
the inhabitants of New York were informed of his arrival 
by a national salute. When he was conducted into the city 
business was suspended, bells rung out their chimes from 
every tower, the artillery thundered until its brazen throat 
was hoarse, the national standard proudly floated from ev- 
ery public place, strains of martial music filled the air, and 
the shouts of the people, like the noise of many waters, bade 
a welcome to the nation's honored guest. Is there a tri- 
umph grander than such an ovation? Yes, one much 
grander; and that is the welcome of the abundant entrance 
which heaven gives to the victorious soldier of the cross of 
Christ. Let us imagine the entrance of such a soul as that 
of Paul. His frail and tottering body, manacled and 
chained, is led out of the damp dungeon of the Roman 
prison. His head is laid upon the block, and Nero's keen 
and bloody ax severs it from the trunk. But O my 
friends, that block is but the wharf at which, unseen by 
mortal eyes, there awaits a ship sent out from heaven to 
bear away the spirit of the distinguished apostle. See! an- 
gel hands weigh the anchor, the canvas is spread, the winds 
of heaven fill the sails, and now the prow cuts the silent 
sea. The undying soul of Paul is on its way to the eter- 
nities! An archangel, standing on one of heaven's lofty 
towers, and peering far out upon the sea of death, discov- 
ers the swift-moving vessel. He announces the discovery, 
and a special fleet, with St. Stephen on board, shoots out 
from the celestial harbor to meet the conquering hero. The 
gleaming strand is lined with redeemed saints, and sera- 
13 



194 An Abundant Entrance. 

phim and cherubim on poised wing, rising tier above tier 
await his coming. And when Paul steps out upon the 
shore of eternal deliverance every bell in heaven is ringing 
and every harp is bursting with music! Angels bid him 
welcome as he passes through the pearly gates, and converts 
of Corinth and Athens and Philippi and Rome strew the 
way with amaranthine flowers ; while God himself — the Fa- 
ther, Son, and Holy Ghost — flinging open every door of the 
divine heart, says, " Enter thou into the joys of thy Lord." 
O who is not willing to sacrifice ease, deny self, and bear 
the consecrated cross in this life for the exalted privilege 
of obtaining " an abundant entrance into the everlasting 
kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ?" 

4. Once more, let me say this abundant entrance means 
that he who receives it shall be rewarded with high honor 
and lofty rank amid the splendid appointments of eternity. 
We feel that it will be a grand thing to be simply door- 
keepers in the " better land," and so it will ; but it is our 
grander privilege to be kings and priests in that world. 
There are those who say they would be satisfied to live for- 
ever in humble homes in the suburbs of the New Jerusa- 
lem ; but we may occupv mansions of transcendent beauty 
in our Father's house. It seems to us sometimes that it 
w r ould be enough to be assigned places away out on the 
frontiers of heaven's civilization, where we might catch only 
the dying strains of music that float on the perfumed air 
from angelic choirs ; but we may entertain the blessed hope 
of living beneath the very shadow of God's throne and 
uniting our voices in the grandest anthems that break in 
eternal harmony upon the ear of God. A crown with but 
one star is worth striving for; but O to wear a crown lumi- 
nous with thousands of stars ! To be a ruler over one city 
is a great reward; but O to be God's vicegerent over 
worlds ! To reign over the secrets of the material universe, 



An Abundant Entrance. 1&3 

commanding its majestic forces and exploring its infinite 
variety of combinations; to know the "hidden things" of 
Providence, solving all its grand and glorious problems ; to 
look into the mysteries of grace, God's wonderful designs in 
saving men ; to master the infinite volume of divine love ; 
to " see God as he is " — O these are all implied in having 
ministered unto us "an abundant entrance into that eve:- 
lasting kingdom." Christian, wake up! let no man take 
your crown! 



Special Providence,* 

"But the very hairs of your head are all numbered." (Matthew 
x. 30.) 

THE Christian Church is greatly indebted to modern sci- 
ence for many favors. Science has broken the chains 
of many superstitions, exploded many false theories, opened 
up highways for the more speedy progress of her great doc- 
trines, and in many other things brought the Church under 
obligations. But with all that modern science has given to 
the Church, it is trying to take from her that which is more 
precious than all its gifts. I mean the doctrine of special 
providence, which, to my mind, our Saviour so unmistaka- 
bly teaches in the text. 

Those of you who are at all acquainted with the scien- 
tific thought of the present age cannot fail to have noticed 
that its trend is in the opposite direction from a special 
providence; that in its equation of the universe God is 
represented by the unknown quantity. Why so many of 
our royal thinkers and workers of science should endeavor 
to destroy in Christian faith the doctrine of special provi- 
dence is to me very strange and unaccountable. I can 
easily understand why a criminal should wish there were 
no such thing as righteous law; I can understand why a 

*A tender and sacred interest attaches to this discourse as the very 
last that was written by its gifted author only a few days before bis 
translation. It seems almost as if he had a presentiment of the 
event that so soon cast its shadow over the Church. — Editor Nash- 
ville Christian Advocate. 
(196) 



Special Providence. 197 



sinner should want to destroy the doctrine of moral re- 
sponsibility and future punishment; but why a class of 
men professedly so devoted to truth as to love it for its own 
sake, and so in love with humanity as to be willing to suf- 
fer martyrdom in its cause, should want to destroy the be- 
lief in God's providential care over his creatures is to me 
unaccountable. Especially since the only substitute they 
offer is a stream of tendencies, a " vortex of atoms," an 
eyeless, brainless, heartless energy. Surely mankind needs 
the doctrine of special providence for any thing like peace 
of mind in this world. We are so short-sighted, so helpless, 
and environed by so many dark mysteries and malignant 
forces, that we yearn for Providence as a child for its father 
in the dark, or a tempest-tossed mariner for a trusty pilot. 
Is there any reason why we should surrender this doc- 
trine? 

The supreme difficulty in most minds is not as to whether 
this world is the product of chance or the creation of God. 
They are satisfied that its origin is divine. Neither is the 
great difficulty lodged in the doctrine of a general provi- 
dence. The large majority of men believe that the hand 
of God is upon the helm of every world that floats in space. 
What most men find greatest trouble in accepting fully is 
the doctrine of a special providence. You may tell them 
that it is inconsistent and illogical to believe in general and 
deny special providence. Just as it is illogical to say that 
you believe in the whole but not in its separate parts, that 
you believe in the world but not in the atoms that compose 
it, so it is not logical to say you believe in the general 
providence of God but not in the special providences that 
compose the general. Still, this kind of argument does not 
satisfy ; men continue to fret and worry over the affairs of 
life just as if there were no special providence. What we 
need is a conception of the doctrine that will enable us to 



198 Special Providence. 

realize it as a power in consciousness, as a comfort in per- 
sonal experience, as a light in dark places, as a support 
under the pressure of life's burdens. 

Let us endeavor, first of all, to ascertain what is included 
in the doctrine of special providence — especially as distin- 
guished from the doctrine of a general providence. 

1. By a general providence is meant that in the begin- 
ning God put all things under the government of certain 
laws, and then left these laws to work out their results 
without any interference on his part. On the other hand, 
the doctrince of special providence contends that, although 
God did put all things under the control of uniform laws, 
yet he reserved to himself the prerogative of interfering with 
them in behalf of individual creatures whenever such in- 
terruption was necessary. Here God's providence presides 
as truly over each individual as over the whole creation of 
which the individual is but a part. That is the first idea. 

2. The second is that the special providence of God va- 
ries its care and interest and intervention according to the 
relative value of the creature. That is to say, if a bird is 
of more value in the sight of God than a flower, then God 
exercises a more special providence over a bird than over a 
flower; and if a man is of greater relative value than a 
bird, God would rush to the rescue of a man with a deeper 
interest than to that of a bird. This is the divinely beau- 
tiful argument used by our Saviour in the text, " Consider 
the lilies of the field ; they neither toil nor spin, and yet 
Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." 
If God puts the great fire-engine of the sun to work pump- 
ing up water from the ocean into the clouds, then distilling 
it into dew-drops and rain-drops in order to clothe a lily, 
and if he then sends sunbeams as so many weavers and 
artists to fashion its dress into a robe of exquisite beauty, 
will he not much more provide for you, O ye children of 



Special Providence. 199 

God? Then consider the birds " God's blossoms in the 
air," as the lilies are his blossoms on the earth. They do 
not sow, nor reap, nor gather into barns, yet God puts all 
the forces of the globe to work in order to supply them 
with food and raiment. And when one little bird of all 
the millions that fly in the air becomes sick and dies, it does 
not die alone. On the bosom of the Eternal it pillows its 
little head, and God's ear listens to its dying moan. Yet 
you, my disciples, are of more value than many sparrows. 
God does not perhaps concern himself to count every flow- 
er that blossoms and fades, nor every feather in the plum- 
age of a bird, but as for you, O men and women, God's 
providence is so special that it takes infinite care not only 
to provide for you food and drink and raiment, but it does 
what you have never done for yourself: it counts the very 
hairs of your head — not a part only, but they are all num- 
bered — every thing about you, even so small a thing as a 
single hair is watched over and counted by your heavenly 
Father. This is our Saviour's argument. God's provi- 
dence graduates its intensity over the creature according to 
its grade and rank in the scale of creation. 

3. The third idea entering into the conception of a spe- 
cial providence is that the divine government discriminates 
in favor of the good as a class; and among the good, in 
favor of the best — the divinest types of goodness. The 
general providence of God makes no such distinctions. 
The sunlight, the air, the beauty of mountain, lake, and 
sky, are as free to the vilest as to the purest — to Judas as 
to John. Temporal prosperity also is as truly within the 
reach of the wicked man as of the good man. The soil of 
the earth, the winds and rains, know no distinction between 
the good and the bad. God " maketh his sun to rise on 
the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and 
on the unjust." But inside this general providence, as an 



200 Special Providence. 



imperium in imperio, as "a wheel within a wheel," is the 
special providence of God, making all things work together 
for good to them that love him, and making all things work 
together for the best to those who love him most. 

4. Again: special providence is both exterior and inte- 
rior. It presides over and manipulates the external events, 
facts, and incidents of the good man's life — his fortunes and 
misfortunes, his prosperity and adversity, his sickness and 
health, in their relation to his spiritual nature. And it 
also operates upon the good man's interior nature — his 
thoughts, will, disposition, and affections, in their relation 
to these external events. God's special providence so ad- 
justs and correlates the outward and the inward of a good 
man's life as to produce a musical equilibrium, a grand 
equipoise, which is peace and joy and manhood. Hence, 
special providence sweeps the whole sphere of the acci- 
dental and unexpected. Thousands of events in life take 
us by surprise. Our wisest forethought and best calcula- 
tions did not anticipate them. Other thousands seem to 
have no other cause than accident, chance, fortune. But 
in the government of God there is no such thing as acci- 
dent or chance. And in that wide realm of events in 
every Christian life at the threshold of which our igno- 
rance would write "Accidental," the Holy Spirit would 
write " Special Providence." But I do not mean to say 
that special providence is responsible for every thing that 
happens to a good man. That would be predestination. If 
a man sits down to a table and gormandizes, and the next 
day finds himself sick in bed, his sickness is not providential ; 
but in this sickness brought upon himself special provi- 
dence does come in and sanctify his sufferings to his eternal 
good. Nor must we confine the sphere of special providence 
only to those events after which we put exclamation points. 
If a railroad train is wrecked and many lives are lost, and 



Sprcial Providence. 201 



you escape unhurt, that may be providential ; but not more 
so than your escape from a thousand ills unnoticed by you. 
Special providence is not confined to isolated events of a 
startling character, but sweeps over all of your life from 
the time you put yourself by faith under its divine segis 
of protection. This doctrine is like a two-edged sword ; it 
cuts forward and backward. The same law that works out 
the very best results for the good works out the very worst 
results for the bad; and the same system that gradually 
lifts the good into the highest altitudes of divine likeness 
sinks the bad to the lowest places of devil-likeness. That 
this is the doctrine of the Bible no one familiar with its 
teachings can deny. I quote a few passages from among 
hundreds of a similar character : " Whatsoever the right- 
eous man doeth shall prosper, but the ungodly are not so;" 
" Whosoever hearkeneth unto me shall dwell safely, but the 
wicked shall be cut off from the earth ; " "A good man's 
steps are ordered by the Lord ; " " Even the very hairs of 
your head are all numbered.' If these passages do not 
teach a special providence such as I have defined, it is diffi- 
cult to determine what they do teach. 

But to this scriptural doctrine objections have been pre- 
sented, one or two of which perhaps ought to be noticed. 

1. It is urged that special providence is unscientific. We 
live, it is urged, under a vast and complex system of laws. 
These laws are uniform, invariable, and inflexible; and to 
say that God interferes with them for the welfare of indi- 
viduals is to throw the mind into confusion and the uni- 
verse into disorder. This objection wears the livery of 
plausibility. It is specious, but it is false. Its strength 
consists in the erroneous conviction that God is the servant 
of law rather than that law is the servant of God. It 
makes an immense difference which we make master in this 
case. It is very natural for the human mind to suppose 



202 Special Providence. 



that God is governed by inflexible law. It sees its reign 
everywhere — in the formation of the dew-drop, in the blos- 
soming of the flower, the growth of the tree, the arching 
of the rainbow, the gorgeous beauty of sunset clouds, the 
ebb and flow of the tides, the march of suns and systems 
in space. Our spirits, our thoughts, our wills — the freest 
things in the universe — are under the reign of law. Hence, 
man makes one mighty leap from the finite to the infinite, 
and lays the hand of inflexible law upon the throne of the 
Eternal. But right there he makes his fatal mistake. 
God lays his hand upon law, but not law upon God. The 
Almighty governs in accordance with law, but is not gov- 
erned by law. Law is the method according to which he 
governs. It would be very strange to suppose that God 
would create a world, and impose* upon it laws over which 
he has no control. In that event law would be our deity 
instead of God. We may be quite sure that God has en- 
acted no law so strong that he cannot break it if it should 
be necessary. But special providence does not require that 
God should violate any law for the sake of his children ; 
but only that, in special instances, they should be modified 
so as to produce special results. Supernatural intervention, 
it has been happily stated, does not imply " a change, vio- 
lation, or suspension of law, but a change in the particular 
course of events under law by the interposition of a new 
impulse." Special providence, acting upon uniform law in 
behalf of the individual, is simply the action of a superior 
upon an inferior force ; it is the subordination of one force 
by another force greater than itself. The very men who 
object to the idea of the miraculous in the doctrine of spe- 
cial providence are working miracles every day in the same 
sense that God works them, but not in the same degree. 
When God made the sun stand still upon Gibeon, he no 
more violated or suspended law than when every day he 



Special Providejwe. 203 



makes it rise in the east and set in the west. It was simply 
the compelling of nature to do that which nature is seem- 
ingly unwilling to do. Just as man makes gravitation do 
what gravitation of itself would not do, just as man sub- 
ordinates the inferior force of electricity by the superior 
force of his own mind, and makes electricity do what of 
itself it would not do — whisper in the telephone, w 7 rite in 
the phonograph,, and transmit thought along the telegraph 
wire — so God subordinates by omnipotence the forces of 
nature in the interest of his children. Civilization is but 
the correlation of natural forces by man; and special prov- 
idence is the correlation of all forces by the divine mind 
in favor of adopted sons and daughters. Hence, special 
providence is not unscientific, but the expression of super- 
natural science. 

2. Another objection to a hearty, practical trust in spe- 
cial providence is based on what men call the grandeur and 
majesty of the Divine Being. They tell us it is a dishon- 
oring, irreverent conception of God to suppose that he, with 
the care and government of countless worlds on his hand, 
should condescend to the petty trials or joys of a beggar in 
his rags or an outcast in her shame. Greatness, they tell 
us, knows no such condescensions. What does the Presi- 
dent of the United States know of your history or mine? 
what does the great Czar of Russia or Queen of England 
know of the experiences of the humblest subjects? So, by 
parity of reasoning, what does the Great God know or care 
what you or I suffer or enjoy? But such reasoning over- 
looks the fact that greatness and littleness belong to man's 
vocabulary, not to God's, and that it is not because pres- 
idents and monarchs are great that they pay no attention 
to details, but because they are weak and little. The high- 
est type of mental greatness is that which can descend to 
the minutest details as easily as it can rise to the grandest 



204 Special Providence. 



classifications. This is the glory of divine greatness. " The 
condescension of Infinite Perfection/' says the editor of a 
well-known Review, " to the finities — to the imperfections 
and littlenesses — is the very result of its perfection. An in- 
finite unable to reach the humblest infinitesimal would fail 
to be an infinite. A perfect providence takes care of the 
minutest animalcule. It is not confused by infinities of 
numbers or immensities of space. It takes care of one an- 
imalcule with as concentrated an omniscience as if that one 
animalcule were the only object in universal space." If 
the telescope reveals the glory of God in the august pro- 
cession of suns and stars, the microscope reveals that same 
splendor of omniscience in the antennae of the gnat that 
floats in the evening sunbeam. God's special providence 
is no more conspicuous in the election of the Jewish nation, 
the incarnation of Christ " in the fullness of time," the dis- 
covery of America, the conversion of Paul, than in those 
experiences and events that shape the destiny of the hum- 
blest Christian on earth. Hence, the greatness of God is 
an argument in favor of special providence rather than 
against it. 

3. Do you say, then, finally, " If there be a special prov- 
idence, its hand is invisible and its actions wrapped in mys- 
tery? " You only say what the Bible has said before you. 
Our Saviour said, " What I do thou knowest not now, but 
thou shalt know hereafter." And Paul says, "We see 
through a glass, darkly; we know only in part." Special 
providence is crowded with paradoxes and shrouded in im- 
penetrable mystery. There is no answer that I am forced 
to give to myself, and in reply to others, than this : " I do 
not know." Why should that sickness have come upon 
me just when I was least prepared for it? Why should 
that child have been taken from me when it was the joy of 
my life and the brightness of the household? Why should 



Special Providence. 205 



that young man, so full of promise, be takeu, and so many 
others left to fill our jails and penitentiaries? Why should 
that Christian father die when a large family depended updo 
his strong arm for support, while thousands of lathers 
still live who, if they had died, would have left their fami- 
lies well provided for? O these questions and hundreds of 
others float on the bosom of special providence without an 
answer! but they will be answered at the proper time. 
Somewhere in the future special providence will give a sat- 
isfactory answer to every heart-breaking question of this 
present life. We must walk here by faith, not by sight. 
An unfaltering trust in God shall not be confounded. It 
" stopped the mouths of lions," that Daniel should not be 
devoured; "it quenched the violence of fire," that the He- 
brew children should not be consumed ; it overruled the 
malice of Joseph's brethren for Joseph's great honor and 
promotion. The whole history of the Church of God is 
replete with illustrations of special providence bringing 
light out of darkness, joy out of sorrow 7 , and strength out 
of weakness. And that special providence is as active to- 
day as it has been active in the past ; it is as mindful of us 
as it was of God's children in days gone by. God is no re- 
specter of persons. The divine law is not subject to ebbs 
and flows. The divine interest in the righteous is not 
greater in one age than in another. Providence is not 
more special in one century than in another. It is the one 
grand inheritance of the humblest follower of Christ. 
Faith sees special providence still written on the lilies of 
the fields, and on the wings of the birds, as our Saviour 
saw it more than eighteen hundred years ago. Belief in it 
is our refuge and strength ; belief in it is our comfort and 
joy; belief in it is absolutely essential to our peace of 
mind, and to our enjoyment of those hopes that sweep 
beyond the horizon of time. Yes, write it down as an 



■■■■-' 



206 Special Providence. 



axiom of faith — as eternal and unchangeable truth — the 
special providence of God directs and controls the forces 
of the universe for your good. God reigns, though athe- 
ism shouts, "Jehovah is dead and buried in the charnel- 
house called the universe!" God reigns, though agnosti- 
cism says that " he and his providence are unknown and 
unknowable." God reigns, though naturalism says, " God 
is a cast-iron destiny, sitting listless, and watching without 
interest this great mill of life and death." God reigns, 
though materialism sets up " its grotto of icicles in the val- 
ley of the shadow of death," and says, " This be my God." 
God reigns, though unbelief cries out that " in this enor- 
mous machine of the universe, amid the incessant whirl 
and hiss of its jagged iron wheels, w r e are helpless and de- 
fenseless." No, special providence is neither inactive nor 
asleep, though virtue be clothed in rags and furrowed by 
care, while vice is dressed in purple and fine linen and fares 
sumptuously every day. Although the righteous perish, 
and no man lays it to heart; although crime goes unpun- 
ished, and pride unwhipped of justice; although wickedness 
seems to enjoy the revenues of the universe, yet you may 
be sure that God reigns. Although the billows be rough, 
and the winds high, and the night dark, God's hand is on 
the helm, and there is no danger ahead. Special provi- 
dence cannot be laughed out of this world, nor killed by 
theories, nor banished by scoffs. It works silently and in 
secret; it intervenes at the proper time; it does not be- 
come disturbed nor confused; it moves steadily onward; 
and in the day of judgment it will reveal to all intelli- 
gences that every thing has worked for good to the lov- 
ers of God. Yes, you may doubt science, for science has 
made mistakes; you may doubt philosophy, for philoso- 
phy does get befogged ; but at your peril you doubt the 
special providence of God, which never has been befogged 



Special Providence. 20" 



and never has made a mistake. O men and women, be- 
lieve me, God reigns! Therefore, dismiss your painful fore- 
bodings. 

Give to the winds thy fears; 
Hope, and be undismayed ; 
God hears thy sighs, and counts thy tears ; 

God shall lift up thy head: 
Through waves and clouds and storms, 

He gently clears thy way; 
Wait thou his time, so shall this night 
Soon end in joyous day. 



Still heavy is thy heart? 

Still sinks thy spirit down? 
Cast off the weight, let fear depart, 

And every care be gone. 
What though thou rulest not, 

Yet heaven and earth and hell 
Proclaim, God sitteth on the throne 

And ruleth all things well. 



The Power of the Resurrectior), 

"That I may know Him, and the power of his resurrection." 
(Philippians iii. 10.) 

IT is not necessary on this Easter morning to consume time 
and strength in proving to you the fact of the resurrec- 
tion of Jesus Christ. That has been lifted out of the arena 
of discussion and doubt by the ages themselves. There is 
more occasion to question whether Csesar reigned or Colum- 
bus discovered America, or that Napoleon commanded the 
French troops, than to doubt that Jesus arose from the 
dead. David Hume constructs the strongest possible argu- 
ment against this fact, and concentrates all the natural and 
acquired ability of his powerful mind in an effort to over- 
throw it, but utterly fails in the attempt; and those who re- 
peat the experiment will not be more successful. If we are 
justified in believing any thing that addresses our faith, 
we are justified in believing in the resurrection of Christ. 
Scoffers and infidels may continue to say that the apostles 
confused the resurrection of an idea with the resurrection 
of its author — that it was all a mere delusion, a vision ; but 
notwithstanding this, the fact of the resurrection will stand 
like the majestic rock of the ocean, unmoved by the waves 
of doubt that break against it and fall back in froth and 
foam. What we celebrate on these annual Easter occa- 
sions, then, is not so much the fact as the power of the fact 
of Christ's rising from the dead. 

But let us observe the distinction which the apostle here 
draws between a fact and the power of a fact. It is a fact 
that you and I exist; that we are rational beings, strangely 
(208) 



The PowerWf the Resurrection. 209 

organized in soul and body; that we are the foci of immeas- 
urable possibilities. But the power of this fact will be de- 
termined by a thousand considerations. It may be reduced 
almost to zero in its influence, or it may be made to shape 
largely the destiny of the world. The power of the fact 
of our existence may swell the glory of God or contribute 
to the darkness of hell. 

It may be a fact that you have succeeded in business, but 
the power of that fact is very different from the power of 
the fact of the revolution in 1777. It may be a fact that 
you have failed in business, but the power of that fact is very 
different from the power of the fact of the failure of the Con- 
federacy in 1865. So you see a fact is one thing and the 
power of a fact another thing. Paul prayed to know the 
power of the resurrection. By this phrase he undoubtedly 
meant the results, the effects, the influences which naturally 
follow Christ's rising from the dead. 

1. First, then, the power of the resurrection maybe seen 
in its ability to awaken mental curiosity. It is the mast 
stupendous miracle in the annals of the universe. It is at 
variance with the observed course of nature. It belongs to 
the category of the wonderful, and is well calculated to ex- 
cite in the mind the very highest degree of inquisitive in- 
terest. 

2. The power of the resurrection is also seen in the intel- 
lectual activity and anxiety which have been aroused in the 
effort to account for it. It has exerted a tremendous force 
in this direction. What grand minds have taxed and tor- 
tured their strength of thought in trying to trace its ef- 
fects ! 

3. But Paul prayed to know the power of the resurrec- 
tion not as an object of curiosity, nor as an intellectual 
stimulus, but in its moral, practical, and doctrinal bearings 
and sequences; and this is the knowledge w T hich we should 

14 



210 The Power of the Resurrection. 

strive to obtain to-day. Viewed in this light, we cannot 
but feel the power of the resurrection, 

I. In its assertion of our Lord's complete sovereignty over 
all nature. If we conceive of the life-work of Christ on 
earth under the figure of a great temple, then his birth 
would be the corner-stone, his words and works the super- 
structure, his death the splendid arch doming the building, 
and his resurrection the key-stone of the arch. During our 
Saviour's sojourn upon earth he invaded the domain of each 
separate department of physical force and exacted acknowl- 
edgment of his supremacy, and in every instance the de- 
mand received an immediate response. 

1. He laid his hand upon water, and in token of his sov- 
ereignty it either blushed into wine or became a crystal 
pavement for his feet. 

2. He spoke to the irrational kingdom, and immediately 
a fish hastened to bring him money to pay his poll-tax, 
while the wild colt upon which never man sat became gen- 
tle as a lamb to carry its Lord. 

3. He walked into inanimate creation, and at his rebuke 
the fig-tree withered at its roots. 

4. He entered the realm of disease, and in obedience to 
his command the dumb began to speak, the deaf to hear, 
the blind to see, and the lame to walk, while the fever-strick- 
en rejoiced in the bounding pulse of health. 

5. He touched with his fingers dead matter, and bread 
multiplied in his hands. 

6. His voice sounded in the empire of meteorology, and 
the winds, like weeping children, sobbed themselves to sleep. 

7. Astronomy recognized her Lord when the sun refused 
to shine upon his crucifixion, and geology attested his di- 
vinity when the rocks shook with ague at his death. 

There was now but one more department of natural force 
that must bear witness to his supremacy — the kingdom of 



The Power of the Resurrection. 211 

his own death. He had already asserted his mastery over 
death in others. He had rebound the ligaments which the 
tyrant had severed in Jairus's daughter, the widow's son, 
and Lazarus; but can he rekindle the flame of life in his 
own dead body? The very worst that natural law and 
physical force can do is to kill him. If Jesus can conquer 
death while he himself is dead, then his sovereignty over 
nature and all physical energy is triumphantly declared. 
He did this when "on the third day he arose from the 
dead;" and thus we behold the power of the resurrection 
from this stand-point. 

Because Jesus is supreme in nature I do not ask him to 
suspend her laws for me ; but it is a comfort to know that 
when necessary he can bend nature to my good, and that 
natural evil can never come between me and him whom I 
love. 

II. But the power of the resurrection is also seen in its 
demonstration of Christ's sovereignty over all moral forces. 
Here he demanded recognition of his dominion as well as 
in the world of nature. Entering the citadel of the human 
intellect where sin had unhinged its powers, by a word he 
transformed the maniac's brain into a splendid trophy of 
his kingship; and visiting the palace of the soul, he re- 
stored its desecrated chambers into temples of beauty. He 
spoke to demons, the representatives of hell, and they, with 
lurid eyes and gnashing teeth, confessed his authority. But 
in the trial, crucifixion, death, and burial of our Saviour 
moral evil had apparently triumphed over him. If Jesus 
had never risen from the tomb the world would have be- 
lieved that his conquests while living were casual, but that 
in the end he was defeated. I have no doubt when the 
bloody corpse of Christ was laid in the grave Pharisees, 
chief priests, and devils in hell chuckled among themselves, 
"He is conquered at last!" 



212 The Power of the Resurrection. 

We are told that Jesus was buried in a garden. "It 
seemed emblematic. Humanity may well be compared to 
a garden. If Christ rises no f , it is a garden strewn with 
withered flowers ; if he rises, it is a garden crowded with 
immortelles." The sun which is to give it heat has gone 
down in that rock-hewn sepulcher; the fountain which is 
to water it is dry in that granite cave; the world's hope lies 
buried in Joseph's new tomb. Throw your thought back- 
ward tc-day and contemplate the saddening scene. A great 
stone has been rolled against the mouth of the sepulcher. 
It is stamped with the seal of State. Roman soldiery, pan- 
oplied in breastplate, helmet, and greaves, stand sentinel 
over the pregnant spot. The Sanhedrim is rejoicing; the 
disciples have fled in terror; the crowd has dispersed, and 
each has gone about his business. Hovering over that si- 
lent tomb are the expectations of humanity. Hope, with 
drooping wing and sorrowing heart, exclaims, "Can it be 
that he who raised others lies himself conquered in death?" 
Faith, with her once clear eyes all dim with tears, looks 
down and says : " Is it true that he whose wisdom was su- 
pernal, who could walk the night-seas and calm the raging 
winds, is forever gone?" While love, in the bewilderment 
of her deathless affection, believes, even against sight, that 
he who spoke the sweet beatitudes is not dead. 

Thus watching and wondering, these angels of our nature 
lingered about the world's buried Christ. The sun rose in 
the east, moved across the heavens, and sunk below the 
western horizon. Two nights had mantled the world in 
darkness; twice had the stars looked down upon that lonely 
sepulcher, weeping tears of holy light ; two days and nights 
was there high carnival in hell celebrating the triumph of 
evil ; two nights had the Roman spears gleamed in the moon- 
light; twice at midnight had the sentinel's cry rung out: 
" Twelve o'clock, and all 's well ! " And now the morning 



The Power of the Resurrection. 213 



of the third day is almost at hand, and still the hours drag 
silently and slowly on. But just as day-break is in its last 
struggle with the night, a thrill runs through all nature. 
The Roman soldiers fall back like dead men ; and the Son of 
God, with the light of immortality streaming from his eyes, 
walks forth from the tomb, shaking the death-damp from 
his locks. Then and there Jesus by his resurrection vindi- 
cated his claim to be the destroyer of moral evil, the fount- 
ain of life to dead souls. Then and there he attested his 
sovereignty as the Saviour of the world; and God the Fa- 
ther said "Amen ! " to his finished work. 

III. Again, the power of the resurrection is most impress- 
ively felt in the guarantee which it gives the Christian of 
victory over death and a glorious immortality beyond the 
grave. Before the resurrection the great question of hu- 
manity had been : " If a man die, shall he live again ? " 
Its mournful echoes had reverberated along the corridors 
of all the centuries. The ancients, in bitterness of heart, 
had said : " The sun sinks in darkness, but it rises again ; 
the moon and stars set, but they return again; but man 
dieth and wasteth away ; yea, he giveth up the ghost, and 
where is he?" The very thought of death thus threw a 
blackening pall over the hopes of men. Job called him 
the " king of terrors." Milton describes death as wearing 
"the likeness of a kingly crown," " black as night," " fierce 
as the perils, terrible as hell." The apostle Paul depicts 
him as a monstrous serpent, with distended jaws and poison- 
ous sting. The empire of this tyrant is the wide earth, and 
all human beings are his vassals. His dynasty has stood 
six thousand years, and its sway has been so absolute that 
all ranks of eminence and genius have fallen abject at his 
feet. His territory is as subtle as it is boundless; his man- 
date breaks in every breath, beats in every pulse, and throbs 
in every heart; his energy rocks the cradle of the babe 



214 The Power of the Resurrection. 



nearer to the tomb, flashes in the fevered brightness of its 
eye, tinges the cheek of youth, and secretes itself beneath 
the hoary locks of age; his commands fall in the spring 
rain, dart forth in the sunbeams of summer, and roar in the 
blasts of winter; he rides upon every breeze and lurks in 
every flower; in all earthly beauty and perfection he is en- 
throned. But on that Easter morning more than eighteen 
hundred years ago, when Jesus stepped forth from the sep- 
ulcher and said "All hail! " to a perishing world, it was the 
salutation of victory over death, and the earnest of an im- 
mortal life. Then Christ pointed his finger toward a fut- 
ure when death himself shall die, when not one grave shall 
be left with an occupant, when not one particle of human 
dust shall sleep in this globe. In that grand consummation 
mortality will recover the energy of youth, the eye that 
grew dim will flash again with softest brilliancy, the voice 
that grew weak will once more flow in currents of music, 
and the limbs that were palsied will be sinewed with eternal 
life. And when death is entombed there will be no resur- 
rection for him. The scythe that reaped a harvest on this 
side the grave will never bruise another stalk, the skeleton 
which smote us down will never again lift a bony finger, 
but the smoke of the bottomless abyss shall rear a pitchy 
cenotaph to his memory, while myriads of demon choristers 
chant his murky requiem. 

Ah ! these arc the thoughts which the resurrection makes a 
power in our mortal lives. This is the doctrine which God 
has written so beautifully upon the earth and sky, in the 
changing seasons, and in the day and night. No morn- 
ing ever dawns that does not speak to us of the power of 
the resurrection. As the day lies locked in the cold, dusky 
arms of the night, but starts up at the first kiss of the sun 
to break upon the world again, so each day becomes an 
Easter-da v. 



The Power of the Resurrection. 215 



And look at nature as she lies white and still in the sep- 
ulcher of winter. Her fingers are frozen into icicles, her 
form is enveloped in a shroud of snow and frost, her trees 
are leafless, her flowers blossomless, her bosom bleak and 
bare; but at the first touch of the spring sunshine see her 
rise from the tomb! Jewels of dew-drops glow upon her 
shapely fingers, her white shroud is transformed into an 
emerald robe, violets blossom in her eyes, while birds and 
streams and low-voiced winds sing the Easter anthem of her 
glorious resurrection! 

O my friends! these floral offerings to-day have a message 
for us. These " garlands remind us of the wreaths of praise 
that shall one day entwine the immortal spirit." These 
evergreens point us to the "sun-bright clime," where ama- 
ranthine arches span our eternal home. These lilies speak 
to us of the " Lily of the valley," which was eighteen hun- 
dred years ago drenched in blood on Calvary, but which 
to-day blossoms in the pure white of immortal life at the 
right-hand of God in heaven. May we, then, no longer 
think with dread of death and the grave; but may Easter 
anthems flood our hearts with music as we march onward 
to the tomb, may Easter anthems cheer our spirits as they 
wing their way to the home above, and there may each of 
us join in the celebration of heaven's eternal Easter i 



T>3 Witness of the Spirit, 



"The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit that we are the 
children of God." (Romans viii. 1G.) 

IN personal experience there are what we call supreme mo- 
ments — moments that stand separate and apart from all 
others, because they register extraordinary events in our 
lives. They are supreme because they are identified with 
personal crises, turning-points in the pathway of experi- 
ence. But the supreme moment of every life, by way of 
emphasis, is the moment of regeneration, of new birth into 
the kingdom of God. It is the instant that dates the pas- 
sage of the spirit out of the darkness and bondage and hu- 
miliation of sin into the light and liberty and glory of the 
Son of God. That passage is equivalent to the birth of a 
new spiritual empire; it is the re-creation of the human 
soul. " In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye," there is 
wrought within, by the Spirit of God, a radical reconstruc- 
tion and adjustment of all the powers of the soul. A world 
entirely new bursts upon the spiritual vision. Up to the 
point of regeneration, through all the processes of convic- 
tion, sorrow for sin, and repentance, the soul has been pain- 
fully grappling with the problem of conscious guilt in ex- 
perience. It has realized its utter helplessness to get rid of 
the cumulative sense and weight of divine condemnation. 
In the hopelessness of its despair it grasps with the hand of 
faith the cross of Christ. In that moment the change in 
its experience is almost as great as a change from hell to 
heaven. Just as certain events constitute epochs and new 
(216 x 



The Witness of the Spirit. 217 

eras in a nation's history, so regeneration constitutes a new 
era and a new departure in the soul's history. It is there- 
fore generally accompanied by intense excitement — not nec- 
essarily outward demonstration. In the moment of regen- 
eration, after a hard struggle with sin, there is apt to be 
a paroxysm of joy. After the paroxysm of joy, there is a 
spiritual reaction ; and in this reaction great danger of a 
collapse into an inward fear or apprehension that regenera- 
tion was only a dream, animal excitement, a mental delu- 
sion. What the soul needs, therefore, after regeneration, is 
confirmatory evidence of the reality and genuineness of the 
change. When " in the beginning " God created the heav- 
ens and the earth, the act of* creation was immediately fol- 
lowed by the divine expression of approval: "Very good." 
So when the soul is re-created in holiness, that act needs to 
be followed by spiritual confirmation. This is what we 
mean by the witness or testimony of the Holy Spirit. 
When a man has been pardoned of his sins, the Holy 
Ghost testifies this fact to his spirit: "The Spirit itself 
beareth witness with our spirit that we are the children of 
God." 

I. It may be well for me to call your attention to the 
fact to which the Holy Spirit bears testimony — viz., that 
we are " the children of God." 

1. Paul does not say in this text that the Spirit bears 
witness that we are sanctified or perfected in love, but sim- 
ply that we are regenerated. Sanctification is the complex 
tion of a work of which regeneration is the beginning. 
Neither does the Spirit testify that we shall most assuredly 
persevere from the beginning to the completion. From the 
very nature of the human soul, the Spirit cannot bear that 
testimony. As long as we remain in the body and in the 
possession of free wills, we are liable to fall away from our 
steadfastness in the faith. The testimony of the Spirit is 



218 The Witness of the Spirit 



limited to the fact that we are born into that life, which, 
if uninterrupted in its subsequent growth, shall culminate 
in the indefectible and eternal life beyond the grave. Not 
that we are already in heaven virtually, or shall certainly 
reach heaven, does the Spirit bear witness in the text, but 
that we are now the children of God. 

2. Touching the witness of the Spirit considered as a 
doctrine of the Bible, there is unity of faith among Chris- 
tian men; but as to what is implied and involved in the 
doctrine, there is some diversity of opinion. Some contend 
that the testimony of God's Spirit to our spirits is indirect 
and mediate ; others that it is direct and immediate. Those 
who hold that the Spirit's testimony is indirect and medi- 
ate explain his function as witness-bearer by saying that 
he " from time to time shines upon his own work in the 
soul as the sun shines upon the earth, exciting its holy 
affections into exercise, and rendering them efficacious upon 
conduct. As the occasion may require, the Spirit illumi- 
nates the understanding and assists the memory in discov- 
ering and in recollecting those arguments of hope and com- 
fort within the regenerated soul." But such explanations, 
it seems to me, do not reach the full meaning of such pas- 
sages as my text, in which it is stated that the Spirit " bear- 
eth witness with our spirit." It makes no reference to in- 
direct or mediate testimony, but to that which is direct and 
immediate. Mr. Wesley says there is a double testimony 
•to our sonship with God — direct and indirect. The indirect 
is the testimony of our own consciousness; the direct is the 
testimony of the Holy Spirit to our consciousness and in 
conjunction with it. By this direct testimony of the Spirit, 
he says, is meant " an inward impression on the soul of the 
believer whereby the Spirit of God witnesseth to his spirit 
that he is a child of God; that Christ hath loved him and 
given himself for him ; that he, even he, is a child of God." 



The Wit ess of the Spirit. 219 



This is the clear, scriptural statement of this great fact. 
In another passage Paul says: "Ye have not received the 
spirit of bondage again to fear, but ye have received the 
Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father ; " " Here- 
by we know we dwell in him and he in us, because he hath 
given us of his Spirit; " " He that believeth on the Son of 
God hath the witness in himself.'' 

3. A little reflection will convince us that the Spirit is 
the only competent witness to bear testimony to our regen- 
eration. The act of pardon — by virtue of which we be- 
come children of God — takes place first in the mind of 
God. How are we to ascertain that God has forgiven us 
unless he communicates it? We cannot infer what takes 
place in the divine mind. The governor might pardon a 
man's crime against the State, but the criminal could not 
know it until the governor had communicated the intelli- 
gence to him. He might hope and believe, but he could 
not know until the governor announced it. So of our 
pardon. God only knows the mind of God; and he only 
is competent to assure us of our adoption. Without the 
witness of the Spirit, we cannot know that we are the chil- 
dren of God. 

II. The more you think of this matter the more deeply 
will you be convinced that we need the witness of the 
Spirit for our comfort, peace of mind, and assurance in 
Christ. Suppose each one of us asks himself this ques- 
tion : " How may I know that I am a child of God, regen- 
erated by the Holy Ghost?" 

1. In the first place, I may answer: "A wonderful change 
has occurred in my experience. My views of God are dif- 
ferent. Instead of ' a consuming fire,' a heartless Ruler, he 
is a loving Father, the fairest and most lovable of all beings. 
My purposes have undergone a change ; my affections are 
centered upon God as the supreme object of love and wor- 



220 The Witness of the Spirit 



ship. Joy and gladness as white-robed angels sing in my 
heart, where erst the demon of fear and anxiety croaked 
with ceaseless dirge. I am conscious of the change, and 
the Bible tells me this consciousness belongs only to the 
children of God. Therefore, I conclude I am a child of 
God." All of this is true; but is it sufficient? It is cer- 
tainly good corroborative testimony; but can it be accepted 
as primary and satisfactory assurance? Are there not so 
many instances of self-deception, and have we not ourselves 
labored so frequently under a mistaken interpretation of 
consciousness, that we feel it would be unsafe to trust al- 
together the testimony of our feelings in this matter? The 
possibility of deception opens a door for doubt; and if self- 
consciousness were our only testimony of sonship, more 
Christians would live in Doubting Castle than in Beulah 
Land. Especially is this danger to be apprehended from 
the fact that the experience of regeneration is new, won- 
derful, mysterious; and if we had no other witness of its 
genuineness than that of self-consciousness, we would con- 
clude that it was an abnormal excitement produced by 
other agencies than the Holy Ghost. (My own experi- 
ence.) 

2. But it may be further said that, in addition to the tes- 
timony of self-consciousness, there is also the testimony of 
changed life and conduct. The Bible tells us that a Chris- 
tian's newborn love for his Saviour expresses itself in holy 
activities, in benevolent enterprises, in labor for the salva- 
tion of the unsaved, in zealous devotion to the promotion 
of God's Church and glory. When, therefore, these fruits 
appear in individual character in conjunction with self- 
consciousness of pardon, do they not constitute a twofold 
testimony to regeneration sufficiently strong to be satisfac- 
tory? As collateral testimony, they are without doubt sat- 
isfactory; but they cannot substitute the witness of the 



The Witness of the Spirit. 221 

Spirit. For this reason there may be not only self-decep- 
tion in consciousness, but there may be good works spring- 
ing from bad motives. In the sight of God it is the mo- 
tive or intention that imparts quality to an action. When 
a Christian begins to ask himself the questions, " Why am 
I a member of the Church? why do I perform good works? 
is it from a selfish motive? is it because of what men will 
say of me? is it because I think it the best policy? or is it 
because I love God, love truth, love men unselfishly, that I 
do these things?" — I say when a man begins to ask these 
questions of himself, he will become bewildered; he will 
doubt the singleness and purity of his motives; and then 
he will be in doubt as to whether he is a child of God. 
What we need is a testimony that admits of no doubt ; and 
this testimony can be no other than the witness of the Spirit. 
The Spirit is the author of our regeneration, the Spirit 
only knows the mind of God, and the Spirit only can bear 
witness of his own work in the soul. Self-consciousness and 
good works as corroborative testimony are of the highest 
value, but they must be preceded by and spring from the 
witness of the Spirit. Then there is inward peace, inward 
joy, inward assurance. 

3. For our comfort in the ordinary experiences of life, 
we might manage to move on somewhat smoothly without 
the witness of the Spirit ; but with us all there are times when 
life sharpens to a crisis, when temptation is almost over- 
whelming, when we must move right against the tide of 
public sentiment, when to maintain conviction friendship 
must be sacrificed, our own inclinations conquered, and 
failure endured. Then we need a testimony of our own 
integrity stronger than self-consciousness and good w T orks ; 
we need to have our own convictions indorsed by another. 
We think they are right ; we feel that we would suffer death 
before we would compromise them ; but when these convic- 



222 The Witness of the Spirit 

tions are pronounced by the voice of God within us — when 
his Spirit bears witness with our spirits that Ave are his chil- 
dren — then no crisis, no emergency, can disturb our inward 
comfort and peace. 

4. And I would state right here that it is to our spiritual 
consciousness that the Spirit bears its inward testimony. 
In the very nature of things it is a testimony that cannot 
be revealed to our sensuous or merely intellectual conscious- 
ness. The seat of regeneration is not in the sensuous or 
intellectual nature, but in the moral nature. The evil sin 
has wrought upon man is not upon his body or his mind so 
much as on his spiritual nature. Man's heart and con- 
science are the great sufferers from sin. It is at this point 
that a sinner is dead, even while his body is full of animal 
life and his mind of intellectual life. It is in the heart 
man is born again ; and so it is to this spiritual conscious- 
ness that the Holy Ghost testifies to sonship with God. 
You cannot submit the Spirit's testimony to the test of ju- 
dicial investigation or cross-examination on the witness- 
stand. The Spirit bears its testimony not for the sake of 
the jury, which is the outside world, but only for the crim- 
inal himself who is pardoned. " Well," you say, " that is 
mysterious; I do not understand how the Holy Ghost bears 
this testimony." I know you do not; none of us under- 
stand human psychology; none of us understand divine 
psychology; none of us understand the methods by which 
God's Spirit communicates with our spirits. Communica- 
tion between man and man through the medium of phys- 
ical organs is as great a mystery as communication between 
God's Spirit and our spirit. The human body is full of 
thin, white, minute filaments, penetrating every part of it 
and extending in every direction ; they are all connected 
directly or indirectly with the brain. When an impression 
is made upon any of the external senses, through the me- 



The Witness of the Spirit. 223 

dium of these nerves as electric wires, a sensation is trans- 
mitted to the brain; but between a sensation of the brain 
and a thought in the mind there is a gulf as wide as any 
that can be supposed to exist between God's Spirit and our 
spirit. Man bears witness to man through the medium of 
physical organs; God's Spirit bears its witness to our spirit 
without these organs. That is the only difference ; the one 
is as great a mystery as the other, but both are facts that 
cannot rationally be denied. 

5. In some men the testimony of the Spirit is clearer and 
more pronounced than in other men. Why is this? Be- 
cause personal faith modifies the witness of the Spirit. If 
our faith is little and weak, the Spirit's testimony is foggy 
and indistinct; if our faith is strong, it is clear and satisfac- 
tory. All revelations are modified by the medium through 
which they pass. The light that shines from fixed stars 
millions of miles in space is modified in its impressions upon 
the eye by the telescope through which it falls upon the 
retina. So the testimony borne to our spirits by God's 
Spirit is affected by our faith, which is the medium through 
which it reaches the soul. Hence, the witness of the Spirit 
in an individual may be practically a growth, a gradual 
development into perfect assurance. First, it may be the 
indistinct sound of a far-away voice. This voice may come 
nearer and nearer, grow more clear and pronounced, until 
after awhile it shall be recognized unmistakably as that of 
the Holy Ghost. It will be the voice of God saying, " My 
child," awakening the sweet response of the soul, "Abba, 
Father." 

6. How are we to get the clear testimony of the Spirit 
to our sonship with God? By asking for it. Listen to the 
words of Christ: "If ye, being evil, know how to give 
good gifts to your children, how much more shall your 
heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask 



224 The Witness of the Spirit. 

him." " To them that ask him." Yes, it comes by prayer. 
The grandest of all prayers is the prayer for the Holy 
Ghost. And the most valuable of all gifts that God can 
bestow upon you is the gift of the Holy Spirit. You might 
pray for riches, and get them; for honor and glory and 
health and friendship and love and power, and you might 
obtain them all ; but better far than these is the gift of the 
Holy Ghost. When you reach the immortal life and retro- 
spect your earthly existence, the grandest spots in your ex- 
perience will be when the Spirit touched you, and the sweet- 
est voices will be those that tell of the time when the Spirit 
whispered to you that you were a child of God, an heir of 
immortal glory. 

7. The witness of the Spirit is the antidote to all doubt 
in Christian experience. It lifts the soul upward into 
heavenly fellowship, into communion with God ; it raises it 
above the cloud-land of doubt and misgiving; it makes the 
invisible the great reality, and the visible the transitory; 
it makes eternity and heaven more real than time and 
earth ; it enables the heart to read its title clear to a man- 
sion in the skies. O my brother, my sister, are you to-day 
in doubt as to your acceptance in Christ? Do painful mis- 
givings disturb you, and rob you of peace and joy? It is 
because you have not the witness of the Spirit. By world- 
ly ^mindedness, by pride, or neglect of duty, or something 
else, you have grieved the Spirit of God ; you have driven 
him from your soul. Pray for his return. His company 
will sweep away every cloud, and give to you an assurance 
of salvation unmistakable. 

8. The witness of the Spirit is the secret of greatness and 
of power in Christian men. Its presence in the soul quick- 
ens all the powers into intense diligence ; it develops latent 
capacities into active forces for good ; it makes timid wom- 
en strong to bear testimony for Christ; it inspires courage, 



The Witness of the Spirit. 225 

zeal, will, grand and heroic purpose. It was the witness of 
the Spirit that made Peter and John bold in the presence 
of enemies. It made Paul, though a prisoner, greater and 
mightier than his judges. It makes a little child stronger 
than the mightiest infidel. The reason why, as Christians, 
we are so weak in influence, so inactive in doing good, so 
slow to fulfill all duty, is because we have not the witness 
of the Holy Spirit. 

Conclusion: The witness of the Spirit is the true and 
highest glory of the Church. It is a question that cannot 
be asked without painful misgivings : Is the testimony of 
the Holy Spirit as distinct in the Church to-day as it was 
in the apostolic age? The Church has grown wonderfully, 
and the presence of God is seen in her great progress, and 
there are not wanting many evidences of the indirect testi- 
mony of the Spirit; but where are the Pentecosts in mod- 
ern Church development? Paul speaks of such scenes as 
the first-fruits of the Spirit as the earnest, or foretaste, of 
grander effusions. It is our privilege to-day to have a 
stronger testimony of the Spirit than had Christ's earlier 
followers. The difficulty is, Ave have lost sight of the true 
greatness of the Church. AVe have been swept away from 
the secret of our power by side-issues. We imagine the 
great want of the age to be fine, attractive churches, learned 
and eloquent ministers, artistic music, and ecclesiastical 
show and pageantry. Our idea of progress in Church mat- 
ters is great numbers and social and financial power among 
men. But these are not the glory of the Church, nor the 
conditions of her success. It was not the architectural pro- 
portions, nor the ivory, nor the golden candlesticks and 
altars, that constituted the glory of Solomon's temple; but 
it was the shekinah, symbol of divine presence, that made 
every thing else glorious. So to-day what we need, as indi- 
viduals and as a Church, is the witness of the Spirit. A 
15 



226 The Witness of the Spirit 

witness-bearing Church is a power-wielding Church. When- 
ever the prayers offered are born of the Spirit, whenever 
the songs sung fall from lips aflame with the Spirit, when- 
ever the word of God is expounded by the preacher in 
demonstration of the Spirit, and whenever the pews are 
filled with Christians in whose hearts is the witness of the 
Spirit — there you will see a Church that " draws." It is 
not eloquence in the pulpit, nor fine music in the choir, nor 
Brussels carpets on the floor, nor stained glass in the win- 
dows, that bring sinners to Christ; but it is the witness of 
the Spirit in the pulpit, in the choir, and in the pews that 
constitutes the magnetic power of the Church. 

My unconverted hearers, the Holy Ghost is also your 
great need. Without his help you cannot break away from 
sin, nor repent, nor choose that which is right. If you 
feel his impressions upon your hearts to-day, do not resist 
them nor stifle them, but yield to his inward persuasions. 
Forsake your disobedience, pray for Holy Ghost power to 
consume your guilt, and decide this day to live for God 
and seek an eternal home in heaven. 



Christian Perfection, 



"Therefore leaving the principles of the doctrine of Christ, let us 
go on unto perfection." (Hebrews vi; 1.) 

EHRISTIANIT Y is a perfect system — a perfect system of 
truth. Not of astronomic truth, unfolding the laws aDd 
motions of the heavenly bodies; not of mathematical truth, 
discovering the relations of numbers and angles, siues and 
cosines; not of scientific truth, dealing with the facts of the 
material world ; not of philosophic or geologic truth ; but 
it is a perfect system of moral truth. It is in perfect har- 
mony with all truth. None of its facts clash with any oth- 
er facts in the universe; but it draws its own circumference 
and defines its own limitations, and inside these conditions 
it is perfect-— perfect in its separate parts, and perfect as ?, 
whole. Hence, it is unlike all human systems of truth — 
that is, incapable of improvement. No new doctrines have 
been incorporated since its first promulgation, and none 
have been discarded. Through all the changes that have 
been wrought by human thought and the world's progress, 
through ail the disturbances produced by the wreck of old 
systems and the birth of new ones, Christianity has re- 
mained intact and unchanged as a body of doctrine. The 
world will continue to advance. The schoolboy of to-day 1 
knows more of geography than Columbus knew. He knows 
more about electricity than Franklin knew, more about 
light than Newton. And the human race may continue its 
development until every man shall be a Bacon in knowl- 
edge, a Croesus in wealth, a Solomon in wisdom, a Howard 
in philanthropy, a Paul in saintliness; but nowhere in the 

(227) 



228 Christian Perfection. 



future will a single new truth be added to Christianity or 
an old one eliminated. Just as it would be a superfluity to 
gild refined gold, or repaint the rose, or retouch the rain- 
bow, or add to the diamond's brilliance, so is Christianity 
incapable of improvement. Minerva sprung from the brow 
of Jove a perfect woman, so Christianity, the spiritual Mi- 
nerva, leaped from the brain and heart of God a perfect 
system. The visible Church is the outward body of Chris- 
tianity. It may be imperfect, but it forms no part of Chris- 
tianity as a system of moral truth. It is simply the casket 
that contains the divine jewel. 

Again, as Christianity is a perfect system of doctrines, it 
is also perfect in its practical operations. These center 
chiefly in man. Its practical effects are unmistakably felt 
beyond the limitations of this earth, extending to the splen- 
did hierarchies of heaven ; but its origin and introduction 
were necessitated by man, and its sublimest achievements 
culminate in him. In its practical workings it is a system 
of moral therapeutics, a science of moral medicine replete 
with restorative agencies. Medical science that deals with 
the body is imperfect; it grows toward perfection by grad- 
ual accretions. But Christianity, that deals with the diseases 
of the spirit, is perfect as a system of moral restoratives ; 
and its whole object is the production of perfect Christians. 
It is a perfect system of doctrine, a perfect system of restor- 
ative agencies, culminating in the development of perfect 
men. 

Christianity never aims at any thing less than a full-orbed 
perfection. To lower this standard a hair's-breadth would 
be not only unworthy the infinite perfection of Him who 
gave it birth, but it would be also an evidence of incapacity 
to manage the great problem of unfolding man's possibili- 
ties. Hence all through the Bible, shining upon the glory- 
girdled summit of its own sublime height, we see God's 



ChfvAian Perfection. 229 



standard of spiritual attainment: "Be ye therefore perfect, 
as your Father in heaven is perfect." Paul's eye was fixed 
in a spell-bound gaze upon this lofty ideal when he said : 
" Till we all come in the unity of fait'h and the knowledge 
of the Son of God unto a perfect man, unto the measure of 
the stature of the fullness of Christ." The same apostle in 
another place said the whole aim of his preaching was "to 
present every man perfect in Christ Jesus." Again, he 
writes: "I pray that ye may stand perfect and complete in 
all the will of God." And amid the clamor of a half- 
hearted, worldly-minded Church in every age for a hybrid 
Christianity, a mongrel piety, the voice of inspiration rings 
in our ears in tones of divine authority : " Let us go on 
unto perfection." 

1. The most remarkable thing about this system of doc- 
trine is that it proposes to develop the highest and most re- 
fined quality of perfection from the lowest and most de- 
graded form of imperfection. Christianity promises to 
produce perfect saints out of imperfect sinners — ay, more: 
corrupt and depraved sinners. It is a grand undertaking 
for an artist to chisel the image of an angel out of the 
rough, unshapely stone; but Christianity undertakes to 
produce a living, breathing, glorious saint out of a mali- 
cious, infernal heart, that naturally hates moral purity. 
It is certainly a stupendous enterprise. I cannot conceive 
of any being less than God originating such a conception, 
much less putting it into execution; but with a full knowl- 
edge of all the difficulties in the way, and without exhibit- 
ing any signs of conscious inability to overcome them, Chris- 
tianity says, "Go on unto perfection." There can be no 
question, then, that the ultimate attainment in Christian 
experience is expressed by the word "perfection." But 
that word itself is so environed with embarrassments as to 
appear before the thought of most minds with no definite 



230 Christian Perfection. 

and unique meaning. Let us for a moment try to differ- 
entiate it, as it stands in the Christian system, from all other 
uses of the word. And in regard to it we may lay down 
this principle of interpretation: that its significance is to 
be determined in every instance by the limitation of the 
object of which it is predicated. 

(1) We speak of perfection in its application to God. 
Here it must mean infinite and absolute perfection, because 
God's being is infinite and absolute. God is perfect, in that 
nothing can be added to the volume of his nature, nothing 
subtracted from it. In God there is no room for progress, 
no possibility of retrogression. The perfection of God con- 
sists in the full complement of all possible good and the 
equilibrium of a perfect equipoise. Of course perfection, 
in this sense, is unattainable by man, whatever may be the 
conditions of his existence. He is finite; God is infinite. 

(2) We speak of perfection in its application to angels. 
Here it has a relative meaning. It can never reach the 
absolute, because it is necessarily limited by the nature of 
angels to a finite attainment. But angelic perfection is the 
highest order of relative perfection. It occupies a command- 
ing eminence in spiritual grandeur. It is nearest of all to 
the infinite, and is possessed by those angels who kept invi- 
olate their first estates, and who were present in grand as- 
sembly to witness and celebrate the laying of the corner.- 
stone of our world. Man was made a little lower than the 
angels, and hence can never attain unto their perfection. 

(3) And then there is what I might denominate material 
or physical perfection. By this is to be understood com- 
pleteness in the possession of all properties which by the 
conditions of thought belong to any particular material 
substance. A seed is perfect when there is no defect in its 
organization ; a human body is perfect when every limb is 
complete in itself and in exact proportion to every other 



Christian Perfection. 231 

limb; a painting, a statue, is perfect when the objective re- 
ality corresponds exactly with the subjective ideal. This 
kind of perfection constitutes the condition of physical 
beauty — completeness in detail and symmetry in outline. 

(4) Then there is what is denominated Adamic perfection. 
This was the primary condition of man as he stood on the 
seventh day of creation, with the earth as his pedestal and 
the heavens his overhanging canopy. In the conscious pos- 
session of all mental faculties and spiritual powers, he rep- 
resented the sovereignty and priesthood of the lower temple. 
But Adamic perfection is not the same as 

(5) Christian perfection, because the perfection of Adam 
was a result reached without the intervention of sin. Be- 
fore his fall Adam was God's ideal man, incarnated without 
opposition ; but Christian perfection is the highest reach of 
attainment in spirituality under the humiliating conditions 
introduced by the fall. A question may arise, Can Chris- 
tian perfection ever equal Adamic perfection? To this 
question I must reply, I do not know. Sin, however, has 
so destroyed the cohesion of our faculties and so enfeebled 
our spiritual capacities that the probabilities are that the 
gospel does not reinstate them into their original conditions 
during the present life ; but in the world that lies just out- 
side of ours — the eternal world— the gospel intimates, but 
does not positively assert, that Christian perfection shall 
stand at the head of all relative completeness. " Know ye 
not," says the apostle, " that we shall judge angels? " And 
what does this mean if not that we, by virtue of our heir- 
ship with Christ and our connection with his glorified hu- 
manity, shall reign over kingdoms too vast and wide for an 
angel's scepter? 

This is the general idea of perfection as presented to us 
in the gospel. Its constituent elements, I hope, will appear 
as I proceed now to notice, 



232 Christian Perfection. 

2. The method of its attainment. 

Conservative teachers of this doctrine are embarrassed 
just now in its enforcement on account of the immense gush 
and spiritual palaver with which a certain class of people 
are saturating, and I might say deluging, some parts of our 
country. Holiness-meetings are held, camp-meetings for 
entire sanctifi cation and revivals of perfect love, as they 
are called, are announced. The leaders usually denounce 
all who do not participate in these meetings. Mothers 
leave their children at home, and their housekeeping for 
husbands to supervise, while they tramp over the country 
and hold holiness-meetings. It has become a hobby with a 
large class of persons; and in proportion as any thing be- 
comes a hobby does it come into contempt with sensible peo- 
ple. These fanatics imagine that Christian perfection 
means a constant efflorescence of the feelings, and that it is 
attained by a single act of faith. Here is where the mis- 
take occurs. 

(1) Christian perfection is a growth ; and it is the growth 
of a tree, and not of a mushroom. At this point Christian 
perfection differs from regeneration. The new birth is an 
instantaneous act, because it is the implantation of a new 
and divine principle; it is the planting of the seed of God 
in the soul, and it takes only an instant to drop a seed into 
the soil. But Christian perfection is a gradual unfolding 
of all the possibilities of that seed. It grows in the soul as 
a grain of corn — first the blade, then the stalk, and then 
the full corn in the ear. Regeneration is a perfect work of 
its kind. In it sin is destroyed in the soul — not partially, 
but entirely. "When God forgives a man, he forgives all of 
his sins; when the Holy Ghost cleanses, it is a perfect 
cleansing. In the act of regeneration, a man's soul is made 
as clean as God can make it. Some have supposed that sin 
was only partially destroyed in regeneration, because a man 



Christian Perfection. 233 

sins afterward; but it is not necessary to account for a 
Christian's sinning on that ground. We are subject to 
temptation always from the nature of our being. It is al- 
ways possible for a man to yield to temptation ; and he is 
more liable to yield immediately after conversion than later, 
because he has not had time to become confirmed in good 
habits. 

But some may say, If regeneration is a perfect work, 
where is any room for growth? Can that which is perfect 
be more perfect? I unhesitatingly answer, Yes. We have 
illustrations all around us showing not only that there may 
be growth in perfection, but also that whatever is most per- 
fect has the surest and most rapid growth. Which, let me 
ask, grows more rapidly, a flower-seed that is perfect in its 
incipient form, or one that is imperfect in some of its parts? 
Which will develop more symmetrically, a child whose body 
is perfect in infancy, or one afflicted with some organic mal- 
formation? So a man, in regeneration, is a perfect acorn; 
in perfection, he is that same acorn grown into a gigantic 
oak. In regeneration, a man is a perfect child of God ; in 
perfection, he is that same child grown into the maturity of 
manhood in Christ Jesus. Christian perfection is the per- 
fect incorporation of the Ten Commandments, Sermon on 
the Mount, the Old and New Testament, in individual charac- 
ter. The accomplishment of this purpose is the w'hole in- 
tention of the gospel ; and it is a gradual process, not an 
instantaneous act. 

(2) Keeping this idea of growth in mind, the next step 
toward its attainment is the enthronement of an ideal. 
The architect first builds the magnificent temple in his own 
mind, and then projects this ideal into its objective, material 
structure. The artist first paints his picture on the canvas 
of his thought, and then, through weeks and months and 
years of toil with brush and colors, he reproduces it on the 



234 Christian Perfection. 

material canvas. It took Phidias six or seven years to fin- 
ish his statue of Jupiter, but the ideal was in his mind be- 
fore he struck the first blow. That mighty collection of 
prophets and apostles in St. Peter's at Rome was all in Mi- 
chael Angelo's genius before his hands gave the first touch 
toward its completion. So in Christian progress we must 
enthrone this ideal of perfection in our thoughts, and let it 
be the guide and stimulus of all our activities. 

(3) Again : Christianity, like all other well-defined sci- 
ences, has its rudimentary principles. These must be 
learned first, and then they become the basis of further 
progress. In a well-organized school there are different de- 
partments, divided according to grade, and each depart- 
ment rising higher into the mysteries of knowledge — pri- 
mary, freshman, sophomore, junior, and senior. A pupil 
begins at the lowest and gradually goes on into the highest. 
When he is at work in the lower departments, he is a stu- 
dent; it is only when he masters the highest department 
that he may be called a scholar. So in philosophy. It has 
its rudimentary principles. While the man is in these, he 
is a thinker; but only when he grows up into the higher 
departments of metaphysical thought is he a philosopher. 
So Christianity is a divine school. There are lower and 
higher departments. There are sublimer attainments in its 
experiences than can be found in human schools of science 
and philosophy. We are Christians while in the lower de- 
partments, but only perfect Christians when we walk as 
masters amid its sublimest mysteries. God intends that we 
shall graduate some day. There will be a grand commence- 
ment occasion, and angels will constitute the audience. 
But we shall receive our diplomas only when we have com- 
pleted the senior course. The elementary principles of 
Christianity the apostle presents in the verses immediately 
following the text. They are summed up in six concise 



Christian Perfection. 235 

statements: repentance, faith, baptism by water, baptism 
by the Holy Ghost, the doctrine of the resurrection, and 
the final judgment. These must be learned first. A Chris- 
tian can no more grow without them than a pupil can ad- 
vance in his studies without a knowledge of the alphabet. 
These six principles are the A, B, C of experimental relig- 
ion. Now then, says my text, leaving these rudimentary 
principles, 

(4) Let us go on unto perfection. There is nothing final 
in these things. Repentance, faith, and regeneration are 
only means to an end. To use an old illustration, the al- 
phabet may be very difficult for a child to learn, but if 
when he learns that lesson he stops, that child will never be 
a scholar. He must leave the alphabet, and go on to spell- 
ing, to reading, to formation of sentences that contain grand 
thoughts. And this illustration shows the sense in which 
we are to leave the principles of the doctrine of Christ — 
not in the sense of abandonment, but of advancement built 
upon these first principles. A child never learns the alpha- 
bet but once. He learns that and goes forward; but he 
never reaches a point where he can dispense with the alpha- 
bet. The grandest philosopher could not move a step with- 
out the alphabet. The same idea is illustrated in the archi- 
tect. First of all, he lays the foundation ; but then he leaves 
the foundation. He does not abandon it, but leaves it at the 
bottom and builds toward the stars. So these rudimentary 
principles of Christian experience are the foundation of 
Christian attainment. When they are deeply laid in con- 
sciousness, then we must build stone upon stone until the 
lofty spires of character shall gleam in the sunshine of su- 
pernatural light. 

(5) Every element of Christian character is capable of 
this indefinite growth. Take faith, for example. In the 
beginning, a grain of mustard-seed ; in maturity, a magnifi- 



236 Chridian Perfection. 

cent tree. The faith of a young Christian may be as a star 
twinkling dimly afar off in space, scarcely discernible 
through intervening deeps; but in an adult Christian — 
adult not ill years, but in experience — that same faith may 
grow into a grand sun that lights up a whole system with 
its rays. I believe it is possible for our faith to keep going 
on until it reaches the summit of the mount of full assur^ 
auce. There are domains of life in the atmosphere above 
us where no cloud ever floats and no storm ever beats, but 
where the eagle soars and looks down upon cloud and storm 
with a feeling of perfect security. So I believe there are 
domains of life in Christian experience where no doubt or 
shadow of unbelief ever floats across the cloudless empyrean 
of a mature faith. Toward that blessed asylum of serenity 
my text bids us to-day " go on." The same is true of pa- 
tience and resignation. I believe it possible for these two 
elements to reach such a stage of maturity that our hearts 
would wear a crown of thorns with as much equanimity as a 
crown of roses ; where we would kiss the hand that held to 
our lips the chalice of sorrow as lovingly as we kiss the hand 
that offers the golden goblet of pleasure. Patience and res- 
ignation can sing as sweetly amid the howl of cyclones as 
amid the melodies of angelic voices; and they can stand 
beside the grave of buried love and say, "Father, thy will 
be done," with as much soul serenity as when they kneel at 
the altar of an undivided family. 

Spiritual knowledge is also subject to this same law of 
growth. Intellectual knowledge is not necessary to Chris- 
tian perfection. If it were, then its attainment would be 
confined to philosophers and scholars only. It is possible 
to be a mature Christian without the advantage of the 
schools. Many an old saint — you have known them, and 
so have I — who could not express himself grammatically, 
who never made a scientific statement of truth in all his 



Christum Perfection. 237 

life, and would not have understood one if it were made, 
who knew nothing of evolution or involution, has had a 
head as clear on spiritual subjects as the empyrean above 
him. He could not reason with the philosopher, but he 
was at home with God. Bless the Lord for such men and 
women among us! They are the salt that saves this world 
from moral putrefaction. On the other hand, there are 
scholars and scientists — high-priests of thought — who know 
not the alphabet of Christian experience. Indeed, one of 
the saddest spectacles of the present age is the wreck of 
spiritual manhood upon the breakers of intellectual unbe- 
lief. Many of our mightiest men of thought, some of 
whom were once humble disciples of Christ, are drifting 
out to sea, without chart or compass or sextant in experi- 
mental religion. Amid the breaking waves of skepticism 
on the great high sea of thought, they hear not the voice 
of Him who bade wind and wave "Peace, be still." Gen- 
ius itself, whose tender scions first sprung up in God's nurs- 
ery, is now growing rank upon the rottenness of a moral 
decay. Not intellectual but spiritual knowledge belongs to 
Christian perfection — a knowledge of the deep things of 
God; and it is along this royal pathway that my text tells 
us to "go on unto perfection." 

3. Motives for going on unto 'perfection. 

(1) If you do not go on, then, says the apostle, "ye are 
babes." There is nothing more beautiful in Christianity 
than a bright-eyed, dimple-cheeked, rosy-faced babe; and 
nothing is more beautiful in Christianity than a young con- 
vert — a babe in Christ. But suppose the babe that sleeps 
upon your bosom is no larger at twenty-five years of age 
than when twelve months old, what would it be then? A 
pitiable dwarf. Such is the Christian who does not go on 
unto perfection after conversion — a moral dwarf. The 
Church is full of such members to-dav. There are Chris- 



238- Christian Perfection. 

tians twenty-five years old in the divine life that have not 
grown one inch since their second birth. The Church is 
like a great nursery crowded with little babies crying for 
nurses, wanting their cradles. Fifty-year-old Christians 
must still be lapped and fondled and fed and dandled on 
the knees of the Church. 

(2) But, on the other hand, if you continue to grow you 
will have a strong, robust Christian character, firm as a 
rock amid every wind of doctrine. 

(3) In addition, you will have an acute spiritual discern- 
ment, that will be constantly introducing you into new 
realms of power and of bliss. Christian perfection is an 
eternal progression toward absolute perfection ; and at ev- 
ery upward step a new world of gladness, fresh Alhambras 
of moral beauty, burst upon the vision. No angel's voice 
can ever say, "Thus far, and no farther." We know there 
are limits to physical growth. These bodies are intended 
only for a little while, and they soon reach maturity; but 
upon the first dawnings of every element of Christian ex- 
perience God has written, "Eternity." The higher you as- 
cend the grander the worlds that open upon your discovery, 
and the wider sweeps the horizon of spiritual vision. Han- 
del was over fifty years of age before he heard the first 
notes of those grand songs with which he has electrified the 
world. So in Christian experience— its grandest victories 
lie in the future. Of the holiest and purest men in the Bi- 
ble, when they had reached the sublime heights of perfect 
love, it was said they had only tasted the good word of God. 
The royal banquet, at which every capacity of the soul 
shall feast, is spread higher up in attainment. O my 
friends! in this world we can only have dreams and visions 
of what God has prepared "for them that love him; " but 
if we "go on unto perfection," we shall know in the sweet 
by and by. The time of our departure from this storm- 



Christian Perfection. 239 



beaten island of time will soon be at hand. "The sails of 
the ghostly ship which must bear us hence are gleaming 
even now through the deepening twilight of our declining 
lives. Only a little while and our final farewells to the 
scenes and homes and friends we have loved on earth will 
have been spoken. We shall very soon be on board the 
death-craft, and the lights and shadows of the fair world 
will be fading from our sight;" then a brief passage across 
the stormy flood, then folding of sails and anchorage, then 
"rest by the jasper sea in the peace of God's forever." But 
even then we shall be only tasting of the fruits of Christian 
perfection. The friends who have preceded us will grasp 
our hands, and say, "Let us go on." Paul will put his arm 
in ours and say, "Let us go on." The scenes that greet us, 
the music that breaks in liquid notes upon our souls, will 
be so thrilling we shall want to stop, but new realms of 
beauty, new empires of gladness, new fountains of bliss will 
call out to us, "Come on! " And the completion of every 
cycle in the calendar of eternity will be a fresh inspiration 
to go on, and on, and on, in the ever-increasing and never- 
ending progression of the soul's journey toward Christian 
perfection. 



Tlje Resurrection Body, 



"Some man will say, How are the dead raised up? and with what 
body do they come?" (1 Cor. xv. 35.) 

THIS fifteenth chapter of First Corinthians — a chapter 
which we read at the funerals of our dead — may well 
be called " an oratorio of triumph over death. From be- 
ginning to end it rings with the orchestral burst of a celes- 
tial anthem. The story of the resurrection life is recited 
to us with such vividness that we take fire with its raptures, 
and feel the rush and movement of its exultation." When 
a Russian meets a Russian on the streets of St. Petersburg 
on Easter morning, we are told he hails him with the salu- 
tation, " Christ is risen;" and the response is, "Christ is 
risen indeed." Any other theme than the resurrection 
would hardly be appropriate on this day from a Christian 
pulpit in a Christian land; for the doctrine of the resur- 
rection of the bo.ly is preeminently a Christian doctrine. 
The ancients believed in the immortality of the soul, but 
not of the body. Their great complaint was that, while 
setting suns and stars rose again, the buried bodies of their 
friends did not rise. "A shattered pillar, a ship gone to pieces, 
a broken column, a harp lying on the ground with snapped 
strings and all its music lost, a flower-bud crushed with all 
its fragrance in it " — these were the symbols of their hope- 
less bereavement at the burial of their dead. But in this 
chapter, from which my text is taken, death is presented as 
a vanquished enemy; his dismantled shield lies broken at 
the throne of eternal life; the grave is transformed into the 
(240) 



The Resurrection Body. 241 

dressing-room of immortality; fadeless flowers blossom on 
the tomb, and countless stars of hope light up the gloomy- 
vault of the sepulcher. 

Touching the doctrine of the resurrection body of the 
saints, my text asks two questions which the Bible does not 
fully answer: "How are the dead raised up? and with what 
body do they come?" The first question is suggestive of 
the possibility of the resurrection of the dead, and the second 
is suggestive of the substance and nature of the resurrection 
body. I doubt if either of these questions is answerable 
by us in our present state. But with reference to both 
some things may be known. ~j^—~ [ 

1. If you ask me, " How " are the dead raised up ? I answer 
candidly, I do not know. Paul admits that he, though an 
inspired apostle, cannot explain its mysterious philosophy. 
But because it is a mystery too deep for our reason by no 
means argues that it is an impossibility. " Why," asks 
Paul, "should it be thought a thing incredible with you, 
that God should raise the dead?" We cannot understand 
" how " God supplies us with our present bodies. The for- 
mation, birth, and growth of a human body is as great a 
mystery as the resurrection of a body from the grave. We 
have analogies and illustrations of the resurrection every- 
where in the natural world. What is the rosy dawn, with 
its purple clouds, and golden-crowned mountains, and sun- 
burst of flame, and fire and light, but the resurrection of 
day from the tomb of the star-lit night? What is spring, 
with its bursting buds, and variegated blossoms, and singing 
birds, and murmuring brooks, but the resurrection of the 
earth from its grave of sheeted snow and icy winter? What 
is the coming forth of the eaglet from its shell, or the but- 
terfly, with gaudy wing, from its chrysalis state, but a res- 
urrection of the dead? All of these are intimations of the 
possibility of the resurrection of the body. They are not 
16 



242 The Resurrection Body. 

explanations of its philosophy. They only show that the 
same agency that does the one may do the other. The il- 
lustration Paul uses in answer to the text is also forcible. 
He says you drop a seed into the soil; the seed dies, and 
from its decomposition there shoots above ground a stem, 
a stalk, a bud, a blossom, a seed. That is resurrection 
from the dead. If you ask, What agency is equal to so 
mysterious a product? the answer is at hand. That same 
infinite power that created all things, that brought cosmos 
out of chaos, order out of confusion; that same power that 
hurled the sun wheeling in his orbit and belted it with 
zones of starry splendor, and made all space vocal with 
the musical footsteps of marching worlds; that same power 
that raised Jesus from the dead, is the agency pledged to 
our resurrection. It is a part of the great plan of redemp- 
tion ; it is one of the splendid trophies bound to Christ's 
resurrection chariot; it is a fundamental article of our 
creed, a grand doctrine of systematic theology. Ever since 
Christ walked forth from Joseph's tomb on the world's first 
Easter morning, a conqueror of death, Faith has been sing- 
ing ov er every grave : 

1 On the cold cheek of death smiles and roses are blooming, 
And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb." 

So long, therefore, as we believe in the omnipotence of God, 
the possibility of the resurrection of the body cannot be a 
thing incredible to our faith. 

2. This second question of the text perhaps has more 
interest for us than the first — viz., the substance and nat- 
ure of the resurrection body. " With ivhat body do they 
rise?" Theology gives three different answers to this 
question. 

(1) The first is that the same body laid in the grave will 
be the one raised at the last day. Whether it be the body 
of a babe, only a few hours old when it died, or the body 



The Resurrection Body. 243 



of youth, manhood, or worn-out old age, the body buried, 
in every one of its particles of matter, will be the one that 
shall rise when the trumpet of the archangel shall sound 
the knell of time. It is very difficult for me to believe in 
this theory — not because it seems impossible to search 
through the universe and find all those atoms of decayed 
bodies which have entered into vegetable growth, and been 
exhaled into gases in the atmosphere. If God wants to 
gather them all together and re-create them into a living 
body, I believe he can do it. The objection I have to it is 
that I can see no reason or necessity for it. If a man dies 
at fifty years of age, the body he has then will not contain 
in it one particle of matter that it did a short time before. 
"We know that through processes of assimilation and excre- 
tion every atom .of matter in our physical frames to-day 
will have disappeared in a few years, and their places be 
supplied by other particles; so that if a man lives to be 
fifty years old, he will have had seven or eight bodies. 
"Why, then, should that body which we have at death be 
raised in preference to the body of our youth or manhood? 
Not because it is necessary to our identity; for, in all the 
processes of assimilation and excretion by which we have 
parted with the substance of one body and taken another, 
that has not been disturbed. Personal identity and indi- 
viduality lie deeper than identity in material particles of 
matter. A man may believe in this theory of the resur- 
rection if it satisfies him; but he is not required to do so 
in order to be orthodox. 

(2) The second is the Sw T edenborgian theory, and teaches 
that every human spirit is born with two bodies — an out- 
ward physical body, and an inward spiritual body — and 
that death is simply the removal of the soul from its phys- 
ical body and its introduction into another mode of exist- 
ence in its spiritual body. For the soul's existence on earth 



244 The Resurrection Body. 



a physica/ body is necessary ; it is the medium through which 
it conies into contact with the material world ; but when a 
man dies and goes away from this world, he has no further 
use for the earthly body. So he leaves it in the grave, and 
hereafter lives in his spiritual body. This theory has much 
to recommend it, but it has this objection: it denies any 
resurrection of that which is consigned to the grave; and 
the Bible evidently teaches that there is in some way a vital 
connection between the body buried and the body raised. 

(3) The third is what is sometimes called " the germ the- 
ory." This teaches that the body buried has in it the germ, 
or substance, of the body that shall be raised. This germ 
does not consist of the identical particles of matter buried, 
but of the organism, or life-principle, which was in the 
body at birth, which remained in it all through its career, 
which enabled it to assimilate food to its growth and throw 
off secretions. I think this is the theory Paul teaches in 
this chapter in the illustration he uses. He says you sow 
a seed of wheat into the soil — " Thou sowest not that body 
that shall be;" the surrounding pulp begins to die or dis- 
solve, to separate into its original elements. The new body 
commences to form. It has not in it a single particle of 
the matter that was in the old grain in the form in which 
it then existed. And the body of grain which is produced 
from the body sown is not. identical with that which died in 
the soil. It is similar, ol the same species, but not identi- 
cal. So, the apostle would teach : from a human body, sown 
in corruption, there will be, raised a human body — not a 
body of fishes or fowls or of angels, but a body possessing 
all the essential attributes of humanity, and one with an 
organism through which the personal identity of the dead 
man shall shine unmistakably. Thus we see the body 
buried, and the body raised will be identical in organism, 
but not in particles of matter. This, I think, is Paul's an- 



The Resurrection Body. 240 

swer to the question, " With what body do they come ? " in 
so far as the substance of the resurrection body is concerned 
But this is only a theory. Others use Paul's illustration to 
teach another theory. God, for reasons which we may be 
sure are wise, has not given us a full revelation upon this 
point. 

3. But with reference to the characteristics or attributes 
of the resurrection body something is clearly revealed. 

(1) We are distinctly told that it will be a spiritual body : 
" It is sown a natural body ; it is raised a spiritual body." 
Just here is a problem I am not able to solve, nor have I 
seen it solved. We are told that there is no such thing as 
a brainless or disembodied spirit, and yet that the spiritual 
body in which souls shall live forever will not be given 
unto them until the great day of resurrection. Moses and 
Elijah appeared in bodily form at the transfiguration, and 
we know that the body of Moses was buried on Mt. Nebo. 
It may be that the bodies used by the saints between death 
and the resurrection are temporary organisms which they 
shall exchange at the resurrection for the perfect bodies 
raised from the dead. 

At any rate, it will be a spiritual body. This implies a 
marvelous contrast to our present bodies. It involves two 
things in particular, (a) In the resurrection our bodies 
will not be subject to the laws of gravitation. They will 
be invested with the freedom of the universe. As the 
resurrection body of Christ could pass into rooms where 
doors were locked without obstruction, and as it on the 
Mount of Olives shook off the power of gravity to chain it 
to earth, and by an inherent power of momentum lifted 
itself up through the star-gates of heaven, so will our fut- 
ure bodies be freed from all the incumbrances of gross mat- 
ter. Wherever the will dictates the body will go, annihi- 
lating time and space in the swiftness of its movements. 



246 The Resurrection Body. 

(b>) In this body the spirit will control and direct. Here 
the body is most frequently master and the soul the serv- 
ant; but then the spirit will predominate. It will use the 
body only as its chariot of progress, as its medium of com- 
munication, as the organ of its own manifestation. 

(2) It will be a glorious body. Paul, w T riting to the 
Philippians, says: Christ "shall change these vile bodies, 
that they may be fashioned like unto his own glorious 
body." These bodies are indeed vile. They were made of 
dust; they were conceived in sin and born in iniquity. 
They are vile in the diseases they inherit, and which poison 
the blood and derange the organism; vile in the loathsome 
maladies of which they arc the seat and home; and vile 
also in the decay and corruption into which they finally 
fall in the grave. But in the resurrection they shall be 
changed — wonderfully changed — and fashioned like unto 
Christ's body ; not like the body of his humiliation, which 
hungered in the wilderness, and grew faint on the mount- 
ain, and thirsted at Jacob's well, and slept on the sea, and 
suffered in the garden, and bled and died on the cross, but 
like his "glorious body." Like that body which the three 
disciples saw at the transfiguration, when his face shone 
with supernal brightness, and his raiment was " white and 
glistering;" like that body which the angels saw when from 
Olivet he ascended into the highest heaven; like that body 
which Stephen beheld when in the grandeur of martyrdom 
his faith saw the heavens open and Jesus standing at the 
right-hand of God ; like the body Paul saw on his way to 
Damascus when Christ appeared to him in a brightness 
above the effulgence of the midday sun; like the body John 
saw on the isle of Patmos, which, with the boldness of love, 
he describes: "I saw," he writes, "seven golden candle- 
sticks; and in the midst of the seven candlesticks one like 
unto the Son of man, clothed with a garment down to the 



The Resurrection Body. 247 



foot, and girt about the paps with a golden girdle. His 
head and his hairs were white like wool, as white as snow ; 
and his eyes were as a flame of fire; and his feet like unto 
fine brass, as if they burned in a furnace." What a palace 
will such a body be for the home of the glorified spirit! 
We cannot conceive of its symmetry and perfection. The 
human body now is the most beautiful of all physical types 
in this world, but it is a mere shadow of what it would have 
been if sin had not marred and defaced it. "Take the most 
exquisite statue that was ever made by a master-artist and 
clip it here and clip it there with a chisel, batter and bruise 
it with a sledge-hammer, and then stand it out in the storms 
for a hundred years, and its beauty would be destroyed. 
Well, the human body has been clipped and battered and 
bruised and damaged with the storms of sin for six thou- 
sand years; the physical defects of past ages have been 
transmitted down from generation to generation, until to- 
day the most beautiful body is as an emaciated skeleton 
compared to the body of Adam in Eden." But in the res- 
urrection the human body will be raised into a form more 
glorious than that of the first man. " The eye will be per- 
fect after the waters of death have washed out the tears;" 
the form will be incarnated grace and beauty when the 
burden of life has been thrown aside; the countenance 
will be brighter than the noonday sun when the veil of 
grief has been lifted ; and when the eyes and faces of the 
saints shall turn toward the throne, " it will be like the 
dawn of a new morning on the bosom of everlasting day." 
(3) The resurrection body will also be suited to its celes- 
tial environments. This law of adaptation is universal in 
the works of God. So all-pervading is it that if you will 
give the skillful naturalist one bone of an animal he can 
construct its whole body; and if you will give him its en- 
vironments, he can tell you what kind of an animal ought 



248 The Resurrection Body. 



to inhabit them. How perfect is the adaptation of light to 
the eye, sound to the ear, flavor to the palate ! These bod- 
ies which we now possess are exactly suited to our present 
state of existence — better so than would be the bodies which 
the angels have. So we may be sure our resurrection bod- 
ies will correspond precisely with our immortal needs. 
Physical labor of all kinds will be unknown in the next 
life, such as sowing, planting, and building. Hence, bones 
and muscles and ligaments, necessary here, will have no part 
in the new body; there will be no waste in it, hence no use 
for digestive organs. "The circulation of the blood is an 
arrangement for rebuilding by carrying the material that 
is to be assimilated to its place in the organism ; " but as 
there will be no occasion for this in the resurrection body, 
blood will be eliminated ; and as the heart serves chiefly as 
a force-pump to keep up the circulation, and the lungs as 
instruments for purification of the blood, these also will be 
dismissed. Neither flesh nor blood can inherit the king- 
dom of God. But I suppose organs of sensation corre- 
sponding to the five senses will have a place in the resur- 
rection body. Hence, the new heavens and the new earth 
will correspond to these organs of sensation, and these or- 
gans of sensation will correspond to them. We will live 
in a world where there shall be an abundance of beauty as 
varied in its types as can be conceived by the divine gen- 
ius, and our spirits will possess senses that can appreciate 
them in full. Just think of eyes that can gaze forever 
upon unveiled visions of infinite beauty and glory ! of ears 
attuned to the melody of harps around the eternal throne! 
of all the senses so exquisitely adapted to their surround- 
ings that they shall inhale the fragrance of God's paradise, 
drink the dews of immortal youth, and feast upon the fruits 
of the tree of life, while the divine witchery of speech shall 
sit upon the loosed and tuneful tongue! 



The Resurrection Body. 249 

(4) But Paul goes farther, and declares that our resurrec- 
tion bodies shall be incorruptible and deathless. In this 
present world some one has said that as soon as we begin to 
live we begin to die. 

Soon as we draw our infant breath 
The seeds of sin spring up for death. 

These bodies were born to die. Sickness, pain, disease, la- 
bor, and worry are constantly preying upon our mortal 
frames, and pushing them on toward the grave and corrup- 
tion. But, thank God, in the world to come the inhabitants 
never say, " I am sick! " No malaria floats in the atmos- 
phere of heaven ; there is no chill in the early morning on 
the banks of the river of life, no neuralgic pains in the head 
nor hectic flush on the cheek, no dimmed vision nor feeble 
limbs, no coffins, no cemetery, no mourners bending over 
lifeless bodies. On the other hand, every brow is the throne 
of immortal youth, every face is radiant with immortal 
life, and every eye flames with the splendors of immortal 
love. Heaven is one place where death has never entered, 
where death cannot enter. If Easter means any thing, it 
means the abolishment of death, the grand victory of life 
through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Death 
has been and is to-day the greatest conqueror that ever 
swept over our world. Alexander, Csesar, and Napoleon 
have slain their thousands; but death has slain his millions. 
Every second of every minute, of every hour, death claims 
a victim from the human family. He has converted this 
great world that God created for the temporary home of 
his children into a vast cemetery. The billion four hun- 
dred million inhabitants of the world are simply one mighty 
procession of human beings, whose hearts, like muffled 
drums, beat funeral-marches to the grave. All of us have 
stood over forms that we loved as we love life and have seen 



250 The Resurrection Body. 

the last spark of fire fade from the eye; and in a few years 
others will watch the tide of life ebb from our frail bodies. 
But, standing here on this Easter morning, Faith can look 
forward to the glorious Easter of the resurrection, when 
Death himself shall perish. His scepter shall be broken, 
his throne of skulls shall be converted into a throne of cor- 
onation, his palace of corruption shall be changed into a 
mansion of beauty, and his vast cemetery shall bud and 
blossom with the flowers of immortality. Blessed, thrice 
blessed, are they that shall rise with deathless bodies to 
reign forever with the Lord! 

But there is a dark side to this picture of the resur- 
rection. There is a shadow that sweeps over the brightest 
hearts on this Easter morning. "All that are in the graves 
shall hear his voice, and shall come forth," says the Word; 
" they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life; and 
they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damna- 
tion." " The resurrection of damnation." Yes, sinners shall 
also rise, and their resurrection bodies shall also be deathless ; 
but that will be their greatest curse. Every member and 
function of their natures will be sources of agony and in- 
struments of torture. In bodies full of corruption and 
sin, with eyes that glare with hellish rage, with ears stunned 
and shocked by the howl of demons, with tongues parched 
and dry with unquenchable fire, their miserable and damned 
spirits will suffer forever. O ye that are Christless and 
godless and helpless in the world, accept this day for your 
Saviour the risen Christ! While in great cathedral and 
in humble churches, with hymns and chants and music and 
organ, the Christian world this morning celebrates the res- 
urrection, open your hearts and let Christ come in, and let 
the angels rejoice over the dawn of Easter in your spirits. 
It will convert your wilderness life into Edenic beauty; it 
will make flowers bloom where thistles grew ; it will weave 



The Resurrection Body. 251 

garlands of victory around your dying-brows; it will illu- 
mine the vault of your tomb with ten thousand stars of 
hope, and lift you at last, happy singers on the eternal 
shore, where all heaven celebrates the eternal Easter of re- 
deemed humanity. 



Christ Crucified tlje Power of God, 



" We preach Christ crucified, unto the Jews a stumbling-block, and 
unto the Greeks foolishness; but unto them which are called, ... 
Christ the power of God." (1 Corinthians i. 23, 24.) 

THE great truth stated in my text is that Christ crucified 
is the power of God. This is a fact which the human 
mind would never have discovered. It has come into our 
possession only by divine revelation. Its first announce- 
ment not only surprised the world — it shocked the world's 
highest conception of the divine nature. That Christ cru- 
cified is the power of God was so absolutely startling to 
both Jews and Greeks in the days of Paul that both reject- 
ed it with lofty disdain. It was in direct conflict with every 
element of power which they had conceived of as belonging 
to the divine nature. 

The Jewish notion of divine power, as it should be re- 
vealed through the Messiah, was that of political and tem- 
poral majesty and victory. The Jews believed that when 
Christ came the earth would tremble under his footsteps ; that 
he would lift his glittering banner high in the air, and un~ 
<L j r it armies would march forth in triumph ; that he would 
occupy the ancient throne of David, and, as the glorious 
sovereign of the world, reign in brilliancy and power. The 
Greeks, on the other hand, smiled at the Jews' notion of 
God. Their idea was that he was the infinite and eternal 
philosopher ; a being in whom resided all knowledge and all 
culture; a being of eternal youth, eternal beauty, eternal 
wisdom; and that his power consisted in the manifestation 
(252) 



Christ Crucified the Power of God. 253 



of the highest philosophy, the noblest culture, and the most 
perfect types of art. Hence, when Paul stood in the pres- 
ence of Jew and Greek and said, "Christ crucified is the 
power of God," it was " a stumbling-block," a " rock of 
offense," to the Jew, and it was " foolishness " — an absurdity 
— to the Greek. " But to them which are called " — that is, 
to them whose faith receives this new conception of God — 
" Christ crucified is the power of God." I understand Paul 
to mean by this expression, 

1. That Christ crucified is the expression of personal divine 
power. This universe of creation is replete with power. 
The earth upon which we tread, the air we breathe, the sun- 
light we feel, the water we drink, are all magazines of elec- 
tric and magnetic power, but they are all what we call ab- 
stract and impersonal powers. We recognize them as being 
different from that power which we ourselves are conscious 
of possessing. Ours is personal power, the others imper- 
sonal. 

We all know the difference, too, between the influence 
exerted upon us by impersonal and personal power. The 
sun exerts a power upon us, so does the air, so do money 
and external circumstances; but this is different from the 
power wielded over us by a living soul, by men and wom- 
en. The influence of a chieftain over his clan, of a warrior 
over his soldiers, of a teacher over his pupils, is of a differ- 
ent kind from that of material forms and material forces. 
It is power in each instance; but one is personal, the other 
impersonal. So when Paul says "Christ crucified is the 
power of God," we must not understand him to mean that 
in Christ's death a power was liberated upon the world 
similar to electricity or magnetism or natural law, but a 
personal power like that wielded by living souls, except 
that it is a supernatural, divine power instead of a merely 
human influence. It is the power of divine personality in- 



254 Christ Crucified the Power of God. 

stead of that of human personality, and therefore transcend- 
ently greater — as God is greater than man. 

2. Again, Paul means that Christ crucified is a peculiar 
and distinctive power of God. He means that it is the moral 
and spiritual power of God, that power which has its secret 
throne and repository in the interior disposition and heart 
of God. The power of God symbolized by the cross is here 
differentiated from that which is manifested in the creation 
of all things and in the administration and government of 
all things. " The invisible things of him from the creation 
of the world are clearly seen," says the apostle, "being un- 
derstood by the things that are made, even his eternal pow- 
er and Godhead." The act of creating all things — bring- 
ing matter into existence which did not before exist, mold- 
ing it into worlds and suns and stars, shaping it into hills 
and mountains, scooping it into rivers and oceans, and peo- 
pling it with life, vegetable, animal, and intelligent life — 
that act of God was a grand exhibition of power; it was 
the expression of omnipotence ; it was the manifestation of 
what, for the sake of distinction, I may call the physical 
power of God. And, then, if we consider the ideal types 
of creation, the character of those forms which it has as- 
sumed; if we consider those great laws which hold all 
things together and which make all things move in rhythmic 
harmony; if we consider the administration and govern- 
ment of creation, we shall behold an exhibition of another 
form of God's power — the power of his omniscience. But 
Christ crucified is not the symbol of omnipotence or om- 
niscience, but of the heart-power of God — that power whose 
reservoir is the compassion and sympathy and patience and 
gentleness of God. In a word, the cross is the expression 
of the power of infinite love in God. This is not a fanci- 
ful but a real distinction in God's power that the apostle 
makes. It has its counterpart and illustration in man. I 



Christ Crucified the Power of God. 255 

lift my arm and strike. That is muscular or physical pow- 
er, and it produces its effect upon you. I stand here, and 
through the medium of speech I announce thoughts, con- 
victions, principles. They represent mental power. They 
produce effects upon you, but very different from the effect 
my hand would produce. A blow struck by the hand is 
very different from the concussion of a thought striking the 
mind. But is the power wielded by my hand and mind all 
the power I possess ? No ; there is also the power of love, 
of moral purity, the silent influence of a holy character. 
You may smile in derision at the physical power I possess, 
you may have little respect for my intellectual resources, 
but if I am a pure and holy man, and if I love men so 
strongly that I am willing to sacrifice life for their welfare, 
then I wield a power to which you could not, if you would, 
be insensible. Well, conceive of the power .of love, of sym- 
pathy, of self-sacrifice, lifted up until they are infinite in 
depth and height, and then you will have that conception 
of the power of God of which Christ crucified is the sym- 
bol and expression. 

3. I see another divinely beautiful truth in this text. It 
is that Christ crucified is the glory and grandeur of divine 
power. Paul does not say Christ crucified is a power of 
God, as though it ranked along-side of all other exhibitions 
of divine power, but he says it is the power of God by w T ay 
of preeminence in beauty and glory. The apostle does not 
say : " Christ in his nativity, when angels sung and the 
shepherds rejoiced, is the power of God." He does not say : 
Christ at the Jordan, with the Holy Ghost descending and 
the audible voice proclaiming him to be God's Son; not 
Christ the miracle-worker, not the transfigured Christ, not 
the ascended Christ, but Christ crucified, is the power of 
God. It was Christ at that very point of his ministry 
when he was dying on the cross as a malefactor, at the very 



256 Christ Crucified the Power of God. 

time when to the eye of sense he was the weakness of God 
— then it was, Paul says, that Christ was the glory and grand- 
eur of God's power. And why? Because it was then that 
infinite love manifested the power to lay down its life in 
voluntary self-sacrifice for the happiness of its enemies. 
Occasionally we have among men and women a faint illus- 
tration of that power in God expressed in Christ crucified. 
When does woman appear before us clothed in greatest pow- 
er? Is it when she stands a blushing bride at the altar? 
No. Is it when her beauty dazzles and her w r it sparkles in 
the charmed circle of the fashionable and the intelligent? 
Ah ! no. It is when disease has laid its blighting hand upon 
the form of her child, and when by day and by night, with 
weary foot-fall, she presses it to her heart and watches over 
it with sleepless vigilance until, pale and exhausted, she 
surrenders her own strength for the life of her babe. What 
is the power of her beauty or her intellect compared with 
the power of her maternal love? There she is a queen at 
whose feet the angels bow. What says God? "As one 
whom his mother coraforteth, so will I comfort you." 
Yes, Christ crucified is the mother-love of God bending 
over man, the sin-sick child, holding him to his bosom, 
and sacrificing his life for his salvation. God has had our 
race upon his bosom ever since the fall. He has been sing- 
ing to it the divine lullaby of infinite love; but when 
Christ was crucified it was the glorification of love, it was 
the culmination of the power of love, it was the expression 
of the glory and grandeur of the power of God. 

4. Taking another step higher in my subject, we see that 
Christ crucified is the power of God actively engaged in 
human redemption. It is divine power grappling with the 
problem of sin in the human heart. After sin had taken 
possession of our race, it was no slight task to dispossess 
it. It would have been a very easy matter for God to have 



Christ Crucified the Power of God. 257 

vindicated his own law, and to have destroyed sin by the 
destruction of the sinner; but the question was, How may 
sin be punished, law be indemnified, and the sinner be saved? 
And the more you think on that question the more compli- 
cated and insoluble it appears. God cannot save sinners by 
the mere force of omnipotence. He can create worlds that 
way, and control the movements of physical forces by phys- 
ical power ; but when you rise into the realms of intelligence 
and free agency, physical force is a foreign element. You 
cannot develop character in your child with the rod ; you 
cannot make your child hate evil and love good by either 
threats or promises. To arouse into activity the possibili- 
ties of moral purity and love of holiness in the heart of 
your child, you must bring to bear upon it the power of 
high moral motives and the energy of personal love. So, 
in order to save man from the terribleness of sin, God must 
use some means that will exhibit to man the sinfulness of 
sin, its awful hideousness, and show to him the grandeur 
and glory and attractiveness of holiness. To do this re- 
quires something more than omnipotence or omniscience: 
it requires a manifestation of moral power and of personal 
love that will melt hearts of sin and break hearts of stone. 
Christ crucified is the exhibition of just such a power. It 
is God himself laying aside, emptying himself of the glory 
of his high estate, assuming our nature, becoming a serv- 
ant, suffering the penalty of sins justly due to his creatures, 
humbling himself, and becoming obedient unto death, even 
the death of the cross. Christ crucified is God bearing 
our sins, manifesting a love for individuals and a race so 
deep, so overwhelming, that its final utterance was death 
from a broken heart. No mightier power could be brought 
to bear upon a human soul to persuade it to forsake sin and 
love holiness. Every attribute of the divine nature and 
every resource of omnipotence was the willing ally of love 
17 



2oS Christ Crucified the Poiver of God. 

in its final statement on the cross. Tf a vision of the " Cru- 
cified One" will not break the heart of the sinner and dis- 
solve it into mingled penitence and love, there is no other 
power in the universe that can do the deed. But this pow- 
er can do it, for it has done it. 

5. Hence, I may say in the next place, Christ crucified is 
the power of God made available for our salvation. You 
know the difference between power that can be utilized to 
advantage and power that cannot be utilized. A century 
ago steam was as great a power as it is to-day, but it was 
an unavailable factor in civilization. By science it has 
been subsidized to human progress; and to-day, in locomo- 
tive engines and steam-ships and the printing-press, we are 
using it to advantage. A century ago electricity was as 
great a power as it is to-day, but it was an unavailable pow- 
er; now through a thousand channels it contributes to our 
happiness and prosperity. So with reference to the power 
of God in relation to human sin. Before its manifestation 
in the form of the cross, it was in God as great as after- 
ward; yet the power of God as it drove suns and stars 
onward in their orbits, as it existed only in the forms of 
creation and inexorable law, was of no avail for sinners — 
yea, it was arrayed against sinners. But Christ crucified is 
the power of God taking hold of sinners in love — getting 
under them and prizing them upward out of death into life. 
It is the power of God subsidized in our interests; it is 
the placing in our reach of a power that can heal all our 
diseases and invest us with more than original glory. 

6. But we must not forget the caution of the text. It is 
that although Christ crucified is competent to do for us in 
our sinfulness exceeding all we can ask or think, it does it 
only for those who are called — that is, for those who exer- 
cise faith in Christ. Faith is the appropriating faculty of 
the soul that takes hold of the power of God and makes it 



Christ Crucified the Power of God. 259 

its own. Bread may be upon the table within our reach, 
but unless we use it we shall starve. Water may gush in 
crystal freshness at our feet, but unless we drink we shall 
famish. Medicine may be prepared for our sickness by the 
physician, but unless we take it we shall die. So Christ 
crucified is the bread and water of life. He is the medi- 
cine that can cure our spiritual diseases; but unless we 
reach forth the hand of faith and receive him, we shall die 
in our sins. 

7. And I give glory to God that Christ crucified is the 
power of God within the reach of all. The power of God, 
as it comes into expression in the great laws of nature and 
as it lies concealed in the secrets of earth and sky, can be 
grasped only by the scholar and the philosopher, Such 
royal minds as Kepler's and Newton's may "think God's 
thoughts after him," but the ignorant cannot follow the 
footsteps of the Creator in nature. Only the poet can 
grasp the divine power of song, only the artist can appre- 
ciate the delicate forms of the divine beauty, but the pow- 
er of God in Christ crucified is not conditioned on schol- 
arship or aesthetics, but upon faith — a faith as much within 
the reach of the untutored savage as of the distinguished 
philosopher. 

8. And, my brethren, it is n source of joy to be able to 
say that eighteen centuries have demonstrated the veracity 
of the text. When Paul first stated that Christ crucified 
was the power of God unto salvation, it was a " stumbling- 
block " to the Jew T s, and " foolishness " to the Greeks. Wher- 
ever it has been received it has wrought changes that noth- 
ing but God's power could work. The drunkard, mad with 
thirst and bound in the burning chains of habit, has reached 
forth his trembling hand and grasped hold of the Crucified 
and become sober and steady. Under its mighty influence 
the robber's heart has softened and changed into incorrupt- 



260 Christ Crucified the Power of God. 

ible honesty. Through its divine energy the adulterer has 
become chaste, and the miser has been transformed into a 
philanthropist. It has thrown its benignant spell over the 
household, and home has been transfigured iuto a miniature 
heaven. Where once selfishness and discord reigned, the 
family altar has been erected and the incense of evening 
prayer rises upward toward the throne. Wherever it has 
been received by nations it has quickened them into new 
life. It has proved itself to be the power of God in legis- 
lative, intellectual, and moral energy. For eighteen cent- 
uries it has been shaping and molding the civilization of 
the world. The crucified Christ has been the power of God 
in the destruction of moss-covered superstitions and in the 
liberation of imprisoned grandeur. 

The cross of Christ, once the symbol of ignominy and 
weakness, has been glorified by divine power in human 
thought into the symbol of every thing beautiful and pow- 
erful. It has been painted on canvas and wreathed in gar- 
lands ; it has been inscribed on banners as the rallying-point 
of victory; it has been planted upon the loftiest church- 
steeples to catch the first light of the sun and reflect his 
evening rays; it has been chiseled upon the monuments of 
our dead, and everywhere enshrined as the most sacred 
symbol of life. How can you account for such a marvel- 
ous change except that it is the symbol of the power of 
God? In fine, Christ crucified is the power of God in the 
consolations which it gives the human heart amid all the 
cares and sorrows of life. It has made men and women 
superior to all the reverses and misfortunes of time. It has 
enabled them to rejoice in tribulation and to extract sweet- 
ness out of life's bitterest trials. It was faith in Christ cru- 
cified that enabled the martyrs to witness a good confession 
before the world and indued them with divine power to 
walk to the stake, lay their heads upon the block, or leap 



Christ Crucified the Power of God. 261 

upon the funeral-pyre with songs of triumph upon their 
lips. 

I love to study God's power in nature, to see it flaming in 
the heavens, and feel it throbbing in the earth; I love to 
trace its history in the fall of empires and the birth of new 
civilizations; but how feeble in comparison are all other 
manifestations of power beside the power of the cross! O 
the power of God groaning in Gethsemane, hanging on the 
accursed tree, flowing out in crimson tide from Calvary un- 
til it covers the world with a scarlet robe! Here the whole 
Deity is known. The first archangel never saw so much 
of God before. Christ crucified the power of God I It is 
this that wipes the tears from the eye of bereavement weep- 
ing for its dead; it is this that soothes the pain of the 
afflicted on his bed of anguish ; and as the death-damp 
stands upon the brow and the glaze of dissolution dims the 
eye, it not only gives peace but enables the dying Christian 
to go out of life into eternity with the shout of eternal tri- 
umph: "O death, where is thy sting? grave, where is 
thy victory?" 



\ 



The Manifestation of God in the Flesh, 



"God was manifest in the flesh." (1 Timothy iii. 16.) 

gHRISTMAS is the anniversary of the greatest event in 
all time. The birth of Jesus was an era in the history 
of the universe. It constituted a distinct epoch, even in 
God's dealings with men. It is not the birthday of a mere 
sage or philanthropist which we commemorate; not the 
nativity of statesman or patriot which we gratefully cel- 
ebrate. Christmas has a deeper, sublimer meaning. When 
our Saviour was born of a human mother more than eight- 
een hundred years ago, it was the beginning of a change in 
the relations between heaven and earth. It was the intro- 
duction of a new principle of life into humanity; it con- 
stituted a new starting-point in the world's history; it 
opened new fountains of blessedness to humanity; it flung 
new stars of hope into the world's darkened sky. Christmas 
is the anniversary of the birth into our world of one who 
is its Architect and Judge. Jesus Christ is the divine mir- 
acle of love, in whose birth the benevolence of God and 
the destiny of man met and embraced. Hence, the birth- 
day of Jesus is unlike any other birthday in the world's 
history. It must be considered from a different stand-point, 
and its significance must be estimated in a different light. 
My text tells us how we are to regard it : " God was man- 
ifest in the flesh." 

1. The phraseology of this passage evidently assumes the 
preexistence, and therefore the divinity, of Jesus Christ. It 
informs us that " God was manifest in the flesh." If there 
(262) 



The Manifestation of God in the Flesh. 2G3 

had been do existence previous to oirth, it would not have 
been natural or correct to speak of him at his birth as be- 
ins- manifested in the flesh. " When an infant is born we 
do not speak of it as being manifested in the flesh. Why 
not? Because, although that infant has an immortal soul 
distinct from its body, and in a certain real sense manifest- 
ed through it, yet that soul had no existence before the for- 
mation and birth of the infant's body. We do not speak 
of a thing as being ' manifested ' at the moment of its first 
beginning to exist. The idea of manifestation in all lan- 
guage is opposed not to the idea of non-existence but af a 
hidden existence. Indeed, manifestation implies a previ- 
ous unmanifested existence ; it marks a point or era in the 
history of the thing or person — a point at which it passes 
out of a hidden into public and visible life." Hence, the 
text assumes the eternity of our Lord's higher nature, and 
it enables us to understand his own words when he said, 
" Before Abraham was, I am." 

2. When my text tells us that Jesus is the manifestation 
of God " in the flesh," that word " flesh " does not mean 
simply the human body; it means both soul and body. 
Oar Lord had a real human soul and a real human body. 
u He was bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh." His 
body was subject to the same physical laws as that of any 
other member of the human family. He hungered and was 
thirsty, and grew weary from toil just as we do. So his 
human soul was exactly like ours. Every faculty neces- 
sary to the constitution of a human mind, every emotion 
belonging naturally to a human heart, every element in- 
volved in the moral or spiritual nature of man, all were in 
him in their integrity and wholeness. He was a man among 
men. Qnly in one thing as a man did he differ from us: 
he was absolutely sinless. " Like the chaste and queenly 
moan that shines down upon the haunts of beggars and the 
dens of thieves and loses none of its brilliancy and gathers 



264 The Manifestation of God in the Flesh. 

none of their foulness, so he moved about among the scum 
and offscouring of human society, and yet was perfectly 
and absolutely without sin." 

3. Yet, while " God manifest in the flesh " was the un- 
ion of the divine and human, there was no amalgamation 
or coalescing so as to destroy the distinction between the 
divine and the human. The divine personality was not lost 
in the human, nor was the human absorbed by the divine. 
In some mysterious way they were linked together, while 
the individuality of each stood forth separate and dis- 
tinct. 

4. Again: the manifestation of God in the flesh — that 
is, in the soul and body of Jesus of Nazareth — was the 
culmination and climax of a long series of self-manifestations. 
It is perfectly proper to speak of the manifestations of God 
through nature. Every atom of matter envisages and man- 
ifests divine power. God is also manifest in the constitu- 
tion of the human soul, conscience being the human voice 
of God in man. Universal history, too, as it marches for- 
ward in the unfolding of great events and in the achieve- 
ment of sublime destinies, flashes with divine manifesta- 
tions. The written word is a medium through which God 
has manifested his name and nature, his will and perfec- 
tions. Through symbolism also divine revelations have 
burst upon the world. The burning bush which Moses 
saw, the cloud which enwrapped lightning-scarred Sinai, 
the tabernacle and the temple, the magnificent liturgy of 
the Jewish service, were all aflame with the presence and 
revelation of God. Not only so, but in the deep solitude 
of night, through the inspired trance of the wrapt seer and 
holy prophet, and the magnificent dreams and visions of 
inspired bards, Almighty God has manifested his name and 
nature; and through these media, for a long series of years, 
he unveiled himself to human thought. But all of these, 



Tlie Manifestation of God in the Flesh. 265 

sublime and glorious as they were, were only preparatory 
to and in anticipation of his self- manifestation "in the 
flesh." Jesus Christ seems to have been the climax and 
completion of four thousand years of divine manifestation. 
Hence, we have a right to regard the statement of the text 
— " God manifest in the flesh " — as the highest disclosure 
of himself that he has ever made. Through the personal- 
ity, life, actions, and words of our Saviour we have a reve- 
lation of God surpassing in grandeur and power all other 
manifestations combined. " In him dwelleth all the full- 
ness of the Godhead bodily." Through meu, prophets, 
seers, bards, lawgivers, and kings, one or more rays of 
the Uncreated Sun had flashed upon the world; but in 
Jesus Christ the white light of the full-orbed God shone 
in resplendent glory. Through the ages one man had 
embodied and reflected the loving-kindness of God, an- 
other his meekness, another his justice, and still another 
his veracity; but Jesus embodied and manifested all the 
attributes of God. There were no hidden elements in God- 
head slumbering in the Father, while some other elements 
were manifested in Christ. There was not one mind in 
God and another in Jesus, not one heart in the Father and 
another in the Son, but all of God was revealed in Christ. 
So that we cannot say the thought of God, or the jus- 
tice of God, or the love of God, was preeminently seen in 
Jesus ; but Jesus was, as the apostle to the Hebrews says, 
" the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his 
person;" and hence, our Saviour himself says not he that 
hath seen me, hath seen some part of the Father, but " he 
that hath seen me, hath seen the Father." When we look 
at Christ, we may sing with the poet : 

" Here the whole Deity is known ; 

Nor dares a creature guess 
Which of the glories brighter shone — 

His iustice or his grace." 



266 The Manifestation of God in the Flesh. 

5. We come now to questions more profound than any I 
have yet suggested: Why did God manifest himself in the 
flesh t Why were all previous manifestations insufficient f 
What was the reason for the incarnation f Now, these ques- 
tions must be answered inside of two limitations. 

(1) Why God should manifest himself in human nature 
must be determined by the purpose or end of his manifes- 
tation. What object had he in view? We are at no loss 
to know God's purpose, for he has declared it to us unmis- 
takably : "Jesus Christ came to seek and to save the lost." 
Man was lost in sin, to holiness — lost to himself, to God. 
The grand argosy of his manhood was sinking; the splen- 
did jewel of his immortality was buried in the deep abyss ; the 
grandest link in God's chain of creation had been broken ; 
the whole universe was in commotion because one of the 
fairest provinces had risen up in wild insurrection against 
God; the human family, with God's image stamped upon 
every child, was groaning and dying in the dark dungeon 
of sin ; and now, to save this sinking argosy, reset the jewel 
of human immortality in the crown of God, refasten this 
severed link, quell this moral rebellion, and fling wide open 
the prison-doors of sin, God came into our world. His 
purpose was to save. 

(2) Bearing in mind that salvation was the object of his 
coming, ask again, Why should he come " in the flesh" — 
that is, in a human soul and body — rather than in some 
other way? The answer is plain. Through no other me- 
dium could he have reached us and saved us. Man can be 
saved only by becoming virtuous; but virtue is voluntary 
choice of good, and choice of good can be secured only by 
the presentation of motives, convictions, conceptions, and 
persuasions strong enough to sway the will and win it over 
to God. If God can manifest himself in a way that will 
win man's love, then man is saved ; for love is the control- 



The Manifestation of God in the Flesh. 267 

ling power of humanity. How else could God have won 
our love except through "the flesh?" He might speak to 
me forever through birds and flowers, rivers and oceans, 
suns and stars, and his voice might be music to my thought, 
but it would never awaken the response of love in my heart. 
He might come to me in a whirlwind, as he did to Job, and 
reveal himself as the creator of all worlds, as the only one 
that can " bind the sweet influences of Pleiades or loose the 
bands of Orion ; " that can " bring forth Mazzaroth in his 
season, or guide Arcturus with his sons;" and, like Job, I 
would crouch behind my own littleness and say, " I abhor 
myself; " but such a manifestation would not stir the voiceless 
depths of my affections. He might hide me in some spiritual 
cave, as he did Elijah, and sweep before my startled vision 
in fire and wind and earthquake, and, like Elijah's, my 
spirit, pale and trembling, might gaze upon him in wonder 
and awe, but there would be no reaching forth of the ten- 
drils of the heart in the warm clasp of spiritual love. But, 
my friends, when God stands before me " manifest in the 
flesh," beaming divine goodness into my soul from a match- 
less human brow, shooting infinite love into my heart 
through the flashing of a human eye, speaking divine 
thoughts in human speech, expressing divine sympathy 
through human tears, thrilling me with divine compassion 
through the pressure of human arms; O when I see and 
hear God speaking celestial beatitudes from the green hill- 
sides and dropping words of heavenly sweetness on the shores 
of Galilee, suffering for me in a human body in the garden and 
dying for me in a human body on the cross — then every 
emotion of my soul, every pulsation of my heart, in a great 
throb of love, goes out to him in complete self surrender. 
Nay, but I yield, 1 yield! 

I can hold out no more; 
I sink, by dying love compelled, 

And own thee conqueror. 



268 The Manifestation of God in the Flesh. 

Thus you see that, by the very constitution of our nature, 
in order to secure our affections and thus save us from sin, 
God must speak to us according to our method of speak- 
ing, and win our love according to our own method of 
loving. 

6. But, to make salvation possible, something more 
is required than winning our love. God's violated law 
must be indemnified, the problems of moral government 
introduced by disobedience must be adjudicated, and the 
breaches of the divine administration produced by sin 
must be repaired. To meet these great demands, Jesus 
Christ must be God as well as man. Nothing short of in- 
dwelling divinity can give sufficiency to the life and work 
of our Lord as the Saviour of the world. The obedience 
and sacrifice of no created intelligence can satisfy the 
inexorable demands of outraged justice. The chasm be- 
tween earth and heaven cannot be bridged even by an 
archangel. Divinity alone can span the immeasurable dis- 
tance. Hence, Jesus must be God as well as man — perfect 
God and perfect man. Did these two natures, then, unite 
in him? In his w T hole life, from beginning to end, did the 
w T eight of testimony show 7 divine and human power flash- 
ing from the one man Christ Jesus? Yes; in every in- 
stance we see that he represented divinity and humanity. 

7. Look at him as the Babe of Bethlehem : " He was 
conceived by the Holy Ghost" — there is the divine factor; 
"born of the Virgin Mary" — there is the human factor. 
Look at him on the banks of the Jordan : As a man he 
was baptized with water; in attestation of his Godhead, 
there were the dove and " the voice from the most excellent 
glory." Let your imagination, with open eyes, still pur- 
sue his pathway through time, and at every point you will 
behold the union of the divine and human. At the mar- 
riage in Cana of Galilee, as a man he entered with sympa- 



The Manifestation of God in the Flesh. 269 



thetic sweetness into the glad festivities of the occasion, re- 
ceiving and returning the congratulations of the hour. But 
there was a divine expression on his face when the " conscious 
water saw its God and blushed." Behold him again as he- 
stands in the house of Simon Peter. The mother of the apos- 
tle's wife was delirious with fever. As a man he sympathized 
with the painful anxieties of the household ; as a God he 
rebuked the fever, and painted the rose of health upon the 
wasted cheek. In the wilderness it was as a man he had 
compassion upon the fasting multitude; but as God he mul- 
tiplied the five loaves and fishes into a banquet for more 
than five thousand hungry appetites. It was as man that 
he hungered on his way to Jerusalem and paused to refresh 
himself with the fruit of the tree; but as God he said, " Let 
no fruit grow on thee henceforth forever," words which 
immediately converted the barren fig-tree into the symbolic 
monument of a blasted and fruitless soul. As a man Jesus 
grew weary, worn, and fatigued, and, with his head rest- 
ing on the hinder part of the disciples' boat, slept while 
the apostles rowed. But when the storm swept down upon 
them, and the demons of the cyclone on the wings of night 
beat the waters into a tempest, it was as God he said to the 
howling winds, " Peace," and to the roaring sea, " Be still." 
It w T as as man he climbed the rocky stair-way of Mt. Tabor, 
but as God that his body was transfigured and his face grew 
radiant with celestial glory. Even amid the solemn con- 
clusions of his life-work — yea, in his crucifixion — we be- 
hold a blending of the divine and human. It was as a 
man he thirsted, as a man his pierced side shed water and 
blood, as a man he drooped his head and died; but it 
was as God he cried out in the death - agony, u It is 
finisheel!" It was as man he was wrapped in a winding- 
sheet and laid away in Joseph's tomb ; but as God, on the 



270 The Manifestation of God in the Flesh. 

morning of the third day, he walked forth from the sepul- 
eher, and with the music of infinite love in his voice sa- 
luted a dead world. 

8. A grand fact dependent upon the union of the divine 
and human in Jesus, and growing out of it logically, is that 
it makes divine resources available to us human sinners. 
It establishes intimate communications between God and 
man ; it is the repairing of the electric wire which sin had 
broken, so that the currents from the battery of divine love 
may pour in continuously upon our dead hearts, revivify- 
ing our extinct life and rekindling our extinguished fires; 
it puts all the plenary resources of divine power at the 
command of faith ; it panoplies a human soul in divine ar- 
mor; it makes the inexhaustible riches of God's attributes 
the revenue of Christian enjoyment ; it so links our fallen 
humanity to God that divine forces may circulate through 
all our faculties just as the ingrafted branch receives into 
its own fibers the circulating sap of the tree on which it is 
ingrafted. We do not have to fight our battles alone, but 
fight them with divine weapons. Human muscle becomes 
strengthened with God's might, human resolution is forti- 
fied with divine power, and human will is braced by di- 
vine sovereignty. So that, while on the one side the divin- 
ity of Christ completely indemnifies the law of God, on the 
other it reinstates the human soul into glad fellowship with 
God. 

9. Another truth divinely beautiful, revealed in the in- 
carnation, is that this union of God with human nature was 
not temporary in its character. I beg you do not think of 
God's assumption of humanity as having a history of only 
thirty years, beginning with the birth of Jesus and ending 
with his ascension. Though the union began in fact in the 
manger, though it was assumed in time, it shall abide for- 
ever. Blessed be God, it is an indissoluble union! Jesus 



The Manifestation of God in the Flesn. 271 



Christ carried our humanity with him when he ascended 
from the summit of Olivet, and he retained it when he sat 
down at the right-hand of God, and it is still the medium 
through which he intercedes for us. Our humanity, per- 
fect and complete as Jesus possessed it, is the spiritual 
body now, through which, as the Son of God, he utters 
himself to an intelligent universe. It is the organ of his 
self-manifestation ; it is the bond of his fellowship with re- 
deemed men through all ages; it is through this glorified 
humanity which Jesus possesses that angels study God's 
relations to our race, behold his vast designs in our redemp- 
tion, and gaze enraptured at the destiny with which his 
love shall crown us in the final consummation. 

10. Once more, and in conclusion: Through the mani- 
festation of God " in the flesh," and through the indissolu- 
ble and eternal union of God with humanity, it seems to 
me I catch glimpses of a possible destiny for us which an 
archangel might envy, if envy were possible to celestial bo- 
soms. In some way God is related to all his creations. The 
vilest insect on earth feeds upon his bounty, and the plum- 
age of every bird that flies is an expression of his good- 
ness. It is true that angels, by creation, stand in close re- 
lation to God ; that he invested them originally with a nat- 
ure superior to ours; that he crowned them with an intel- 
ligence more royal and a genius more imperial than our 
own ; and w 7 e know, too, that he has appointed them unto a 
ministry which to us he has denied. But I nowhere read 
that God assumed angelic nature as a medium of self-man- 
ifestation ; I nowhere read that God has spoken to the uni- 
verse through angelic speech ; I am nowhere informed that 
he dropped divine sympathy upon created hearts through 
angelic tears ; I nowhere am told that angels shall sit in 
final arbitration upon our destinies; but I do read that 
God did manifest himself in human flesh, that he did speak 



979 



The Manifestation of God in the Flesh. 



through human words, that he did weep through human 
tears! I am told in God's own word that we shall judge an- 
gels; and what do all these intimations teach us if they do 
not teach that humanity has been aggrandized by the incar- 
nation, and that there is possible for us a grandeur in des- 
tiny which an angel can never attain and an estate in glory 
which an angel can never possess? With this view <,f 
" God manifest in the flesh," we plunge into 

A vast unfathomable sea, 

Where all our thoughts are drowned. 

O " you who feel the throb of immortal aspirations and 
hold heirship in the power of an endless life, who some- 
times tremble in anticipation of possible events, who won- 
der if the eternal life shall never ebb in its divine course, 
and never lose the virgin freshness of its opening morn- 
ing," assemble around the manger of Bethlehem this Christ- 
mas-day, and as you behold " God manifest in the flesh," 
see also the evidence that he intends that this frail exist- 
ence of ours shall not dwindle into decay, but shall by and 
by develop into fadeless beauty in a realm of eternal sun- 
shine. 



The Cljristiar) Alchemy, 



And we know that all things work together for good to them 
that love God." (Romans viii. 28.) 

IT has been said " that no one can at first take in the scope 
and magnitude of St. Peter's at Rome. Our senses 
are so unused to large measurements that they do not 
take the meaning of such a gigantic structure until they 
have been practiced to do so. It is only when by familiar- 
ity our senses have opened and grown to a nobler use that 
the full meaning of such a massive building dawns upon 
them. Then the immensity of the space, the richness of 
the parts, begin to impress the mind, and every day swells 
the dome and carries forth the width and length of the in- 
terior, and harmonizes the multitudinous details until they 
lose their separateness and become only the instruments of 
a wonderful whole. It is even so with Paul's Epistle to the 
Romans. The close of this eighth chapter is the dome of 
the cathedral. At the first reading it seems confused. You 
feel there is a wonder and wealth of meaning in it, yet you 
cannot perceive the order and harmony ; but gradually the 
parts unite, and the exceeding richness of single words and 
single thoughts is seen to compose an harmonious whole." 
And the closing verses, central among which is my text, 
"rising like a vast dome, lift themselves above the earth, 
above the stars, into those spiritual skies where God and 
heaven are." To the eye of faith they open a grand gallery 
of moral pictures painted not by that great priest and king 
of art, Michael Angelo, but by the Artist of artists, "the Fa- 
ther of beauty, the God of all glory." 

18 (273) 



274 The Christian Alchemy. 

Look at the picture in my text. It is that of a man 
standing in the midst of all the forces of the universe, ex- 
posed to their wildest sweep as well as to their gentlest move- 
ments, and yet so controlling each and every power that aT 
of them combine to subserve his good and work for his ad- 
vantage. Do not our eyes have to grow familiar with such 
a picture before we grasp its meaning? Suppose a man 
should come into this community who was invulnerable to 
harm. You might shoot at him, but no bullet could pene- 
trate his flesh ; you might stab him with the keen blade of 
glittering steel, but you could not puncture his skin. He 
could go into a pest-house where yellow fever and small-pox 
were raging and not inhale poison into his system ; but, on 
the other hand, had the strange power of making bullets, 
stabs, blows, malaria, and miasmatic poison improve^ his 
digestion and promote his health. Would you not regard 
such a man a wonderful phenomenon? Yet this is the pict- 
ure of a human soul which my text presents. You have 
all heard of the "philosopher's stone." The ancients be- 
lieved that this strange substance had the peculiar power 
of transmuting into gold any thing it touched. The turbid 
stream, the decaying leaf, the limestone rock, the unclean 
soil, at the touch of this wondrous stone, shook off the 
law of their nature and changed to gold. We know this 
is only a legend ; but all legend is simply a misstatement or 
a false statement of truth, and this old legend of the philos- 
opher's stone was the prophecy of a Christian experience. 
It was human nature anticipating the development of gos- 
pel truth. My text tells us that in the heart of him who 
loves God there is not a philosopher's stone, but a divine 
principle, a celestial alchemy, which transmutes every ex- 
perience and every force which it touches into the pure gold 
of spiritual good. In discussing this subject, the first thing 
to engage us is, 



The Christian Alchemy. 275 

1. The meaning of the phrase "all things." 

I can conceive of three interpretations of its import: 

(1) It may mean the happy experiences, the joyful events 
of individual life — all things beautiful, pleasant, prosper- 
ous, work together for good. 

(2) Or it may signify the sorrowful occurrences, the 
aches and pains, the misfortunes and afflictions of human 
life. 

(3) Or it may meaii the sorrowful and joyful experiences 
combined shall work together for good to them that love 
God. Every factor that has entered into a Christian life — 
the influences of childhood, lessons of boyhood, successes 
and disasters of manhood, persecutions of enemies and love 
of friends, fortunes and misfortunes, defeats and triumphs 
— all of these, my text may teach, are so many tides on 
-which the Christian is borne to his highest good. 

(4) But there is a still loftier meaning which may be 
wrapped up in these words, " all things." It is possible 
that they may have no limitation, but may teach us that 
not only the joyful, not only the sorrowful, not only the 
joyful and sorrowful combined, but "-avra," " all things" — 
every thing that has sprung from the creative hand of God ; 
every force, whether benevolent or malevolent, in the vast 
system of the universe ; absolutely and without reserve, all 
things work together for good to them that love God. To 
my mind this is the true doctrine of the text. It is a grand 
conception. A mind and heart smaller than that which 
thinks and throbs in Christianity could never have given 
birth to so sublime a thought and hung it in the sky of 
Christian faith as a vision of glorious beauty. If we can 
believe in its verity, it will furnish us with a satisfactory 
solution of the problem of life. Let us analyze it, then, 
and see if we can discover the point at which faith halts 
and staggers: 



276 The Christian Alchemy. 

(a) "All things work.'" This is an assertion that activity- 
is a lav/ of the universe. Action of some sort belongs to 
every atom and molecule of all creation. There can be no 
hesitancy on our part in accepting this statement. All sci- 
enc?, all observation, all experience, testify that every thing 
is in motion, nothing is at absolute rest. 

(6) "All things work together." This is an assertion that 
not only are all things active but in systematic activity. 
No action in God's universe is arbitrary or lawless; but ev- 
ery thing is under law, and bound into a complete system. 
All things work together, or in unison and harmony. Sure- 
ly none of us can take issue with this doctrine. 

(c) "All things work together for good to them that love 
God." Here we have the announcement that all things 
work for good to a certain class. We must agree with this 
thought of the text, because our observation and experi- 
ence are teaching us every day that all things do not work 
together for good to all men. Political power does not 
work good to a proud, haughty, selfish, and heartless ty- 
rant. Influence does not work for good to the wily politi- 
cian who sacrifices statesmanship and patriotism for the 
spoils of office and the glory of self-aggrandizement. Mon- 
ey does not work good to the churlish miser and the aban- 
doned libertine. Genius does not work for good to the poet 
that soils the wings of his muse in the cess-pool of lust. 
Nor does breadth of mind and amplitude of intellectual 
range work for good to the man who employs them in blas- 
pheming his Creator and in abetting the kingdom of dark- 
ness. We cannot take issue with my text, then, because it 
makes all things work for good only to a certain class of 
men. 

(d) "All things work together for good to them that love 
God." Now we reach the point where doubt comes stalk- 
ing across our sky. " If all things work together for good 



The Christian Alchemy. Til 

to them that love God," men will ask — they have asked 
time and again : " Why is it that those who hate God are 
often prosperous and happy, while those who love God are 
often unsuccessful and unhappy? If the text be true, 
why is it that the lovers of God are the unfortunates and 
sufferers of earth, while the haters of God are so conspicu- 
ous in the pomp and pageantry of worldly glory ? " These 
questions betray the difficulty at which reason halts and 
faith grows gloomy. That difficulty is in the word " good " 
— " all things work together for good." But what is the 
real good of those that love God ? 

2. There is a wide-spread idea that by man's highest good 
on earth is meant good health, political liberty, good sur- 
roundings, and " good luck " in making money. Now, if 
this be the real meaning of " good," then we must surren- 
der the doctrine of the text, and say to the author: " Paul, 
you may have been sincere when you wrote this passage, 
but you were sadly mistaken." The man who loves God is 
subject to as great afflictions as the man who hates God ; 
and it cannot be denied that Christians are not usually the 
rich men of the world. Indeed, the Bible tells us, " Many 
are the afflictions of the righteous;" and it warns us against 
riches, because it is so difficult for a rich man to enter into 
the kingdom of heaven. Besides this, the whole history of 
God's people is but a fulfillment of Christ's words : " In the 
world ye shall have tribulation." In the catacombs of 
Home, buried for so many centuries but now being ex- 
humed, are found records of the lives of the early Chris- 
tians in which every thing speaks of suffering. And we know 
that Daniel was thrown into the lions' den, the Hebrew 
children were cast into the furnace, Joseph into prison, 
Jeremiah into a cave, Stephen was stoned, Paul was be- 
headed, John was banished, and Peter was crucified. The 
greatest sorrows that ever hung like thuuder-clouds over 



278 The Christian Alchemy. 

humanity have burst in all their fury upon the lives of 
the greatest lovers of God. No, no ; if temporal prosperity 
means man's highest good, then Paul was wrong — all things 
do not work together for good to them that love God. 

3. What, then, is the supreme good of man ? Is it not 
the conscious realization of all the beneficent possibilities of 
his nature — the ripening and maturity of all the powers of 
Christian manhood? Suppose you should go to a horticult- 
urist and ask him what he considered the highest good of 
the flower-seed or bulb which you held in your hand — would 
he not tell you it was the unfolding of its latent possibili- 
ties into their perfect expression in the full-blown flower, 
exquisite in beauty and rich in fragrance? Ask the vine- 
dresser what is the highest good of his grape-vines, and he 
will tell you the rich clusters of purple spheres, luscious 
and pendent from the stem. What is the highest good of 
the acorn ? It is the perfect expression of its slumbering 
possibilities into the gigantic oak, that lifts its head in pil- 
lared majesty toward the stars and shakes its gnarled fin- 
gers in the face of the storm. What, then, is man's highest 
good? Is it riches? "Riches take to themselves wings and 
flyaway." Is it human glory ? " The paths of glory lead 
but to the grave." Is it happiness? Happiness is an un- 
substantial vision — "like the rainbow's lovely form, evan- 
ishing amid the storm." Is it pleasure? "Pleasures are 
like poppies spread : you seize the flower, the blcom is shed." 
Man's highest good, then, is, as I have said, the conscious 
realization of all the beneficent capacities of his nature. 
But these capacities, what are they? They are expressed 
in the words of inspiration : " Created in the image of God." 
Godliness — Godlikeness, to be like God — this is the supreme 
good of man. To have a mind that can apprehend and 
seize the thoughts of God, and then fling them broadcast 
upon the world's thought ; to have a will that responds to 



T.ie Christian Alchemy. 279 



the divine will in the sovereignty of choice ; to have a con- 
science that reflects the rectitude of the divine nature in 
moral law; to have a heart so pure that it glasses the di- 
vine purity, and a love so deep and broad that it mirrors 
the infinite love of God in Christ — this is to be in posses- 
sion of man's highest and supremest good. This is the 
grand purpose of the majestic and supernatural forces of 
the atonement in their operations upon human nature; 
and toward the consummation of this sublime achieve- 
ment, my text tells us, every force contributes the meas- 
ure of its capacity. No good in the compass of the uni- 
verse or within the gift of omnipotence can be compared 
to a resemblance to God. He can communicate nothing so 
precious, so glorious and blessed, as himself. To have in- 
tellectual and moral affinity with him, and bear a growing 
conformity to his perfections, is a felicity which obscures and 
annihilates all other good. To such a man, even here, faith 
begins to change into vision. He more than "believes; he 
feels the divine presence, and gradually rises into the grand 
fellowship of God's majestic life. Shall I deem a property 
in the outward universe my highest good when I may be- 
come partaker of the very mind from which it swings — 
" the prompting love, the disposing wisdom, the Quickening 
power through which its order, beauty, and beneficent influ- 
ences subsist?" No; godliness is the soul's supreme good. 
When it has attained this, it can go no farther. The tran- 
scendent ideal of an archangel's aspiration is completely 
realized when he wears the features and perfects the re- 
semblance to his Creator. And it is for this high spiritual 
£pod that my text assures us all things work together to. 
them that love God. 

4. But there is an idea unfhldcd in the text which must 
be noticed at this juncture if we would prevent confusion 
of thought — i, e., all things work together for good. By 



280 The Christian Alchemy. 

which the apostle teaches that all things work collectively, but 
not singly, for good to them that love God. This distinction is 
real, and removes difficulties out of the way of faith. In 
Christianity, as well as in the science of medicine, there is 
reciprocal action — an interplay between agencies through 
which one element destructive in itself becomes reme- 
dial in its cooperation with other elements. Opium,, ar- 
senic, and many acids, taken into the human body singly, 
would work death, but taken in a compound conduce to 
health. Hydrogen and oxygen, operating separately upon 
our physical system, are ruinous, but working together they 
give us the elixir that cools our fevered thirst. The alka- 
lies of the laboratory neutralize the acids and the acids the 
alkalies, so that the chemist or physician who understands 
the properties and action of his elements makes even poi- 
sonous substances contribute to the good of man. So Al- 
mighty God, the great chemist and physician, in the labo- 
ratory of the physical universe and in the pharmacy of 
moral forces, so compounds the alkaline and the aciduous 
experiences of life as to make all work together for good to 
them that love God. The natural tendency of sorrows and 
afflictions working separately upon the human heart is acid- 
uous, souring the disposition, warping the judgment, de- 
pressing the thought irritating the temper, and embittering 
the affections. The natural tendency, on the other hand, 
of joy in its separate action upon the soul is toward spirit- 
ual efflorescence, seraphic ebullitions, dreams, and visions — 
a floating of the foul far away from reality to ideality, from 
the stern logic of facts into the glowing empyrean of fancy; 
but let there be a working together of joyful and sorrowful 
experiences; let there be play and interplay, action and re- 
action, under the superintendence of the great Father, and 
there results a blessed moral precipitate of Godlikencss 
in the heart. - 



The Christian Alchemy. 281 

The soft and mellow light in which the artist dips his 
pencil and which he transfers to his canvas is a necessary 
part of his picture, but it is not the picture. The twilight 
shadows which run like ebony braids through the net-work 
of light are necessary to the painting, but they are not the 
painting. The dim and the bold perspective in which each 
feature and object of the ideal stands in beautiful relief are 
indispensable to the completion of the picture, but they are 
not the picture. But let light and shadow, dim and bold per- 
spective, background and forefront, work together, and there 
rises before you a "Carthage in Ruins," a " Last Supper," a 
" Transfiguration," which holds your entire being spell-bound 
and enraptured. O my friends! our heavenly Father is 
the divine artist, infinite love is the pencil, the human soul 
is" the canvas, the forces of the universe, the experiences of 
life, are the lights and shadows, time and eternity are the 
dim and bold perspective; and out of all these elements Al- 
mighty God is throwing upon the canvas of eternal ages 
moral portraitures whose unveiling on the day of judgment 
will hold the grandest archangel spell-bound with admira- 
tion. 

" For we know that all things work together " — collect- 
ively, not singly — " for good to them that love God." 

5. Hoiv do ive know it t 

If I had the time, and you had the patience, I think I 
could show you that we know it (1) because God has de- 
clared it, and (2) because he who loves God belongs to a 
kingdom to whose eternal good every thing else is made 
contributory by Providence ; but I only have time to say to 
you that we know the doctrine of the text is true, 

(1) Because the love-principle in the human heart has the 
mysterious power of transmuting every experience of life into 
an element of spiritual good. Love to God is the divine al- 
chemy, more marvelous than the philosopher's stone, trans- 



282 The Christian Alchemy. 



forming every circumstance of life into a glorious benedic- 
tion. It is the heavenly magician, whose talismanic power 
makes every experience promotive of man's final and abso- 
lute good. In its hands life's misfortunes constitute the 
very steps of that golden stair- way by which immortal souls 
mount up to the palaces of fadeless glory. The effect upon 
character produced by the forces of life depends altogether 
upon the controlling principle in the heart. 

We all know that the same agency brought in contact 
with different objects will produce different effects. Any 
chemist will tell you that a lighted taper inserted into a 
vial filled with one kind of gas will burn with brilliancy, 
but the same taper inserted into a tube filled with another 
kind of gas will be extinguished with a fetid, offensive 
smoke; and in still another will produce a violent ex- 
plosion. So the same disasters and triumphs, successes 
and failures, will wreck one man, while in another they 
will develop massive strength of character. Every thing 
depends upon the vital, supreme principle in the heart. 
" Beneath the petals of the graceful flower is a sedative 
poison which we call opium, in the boiling water is that 
powerful element which we call steam, in the voltaic bat- 
tery is that wonderful force called electricity." Put these 
three elements into the hands of a savage, and they become 
instruments of great evil; but put them into the hands of 
science, and the one becomes a great remedial agent, the 
•jther drives oceanic palaces across the deep, and the other 
becomes a carrier of human thought beneath the waves of 
the sea. The same elements that worked together for evil 
in the hands of the ignorant work together for good in the 
hands of the intelligent. Look at those two trees in the or- 
chard. The one is bleak and barren, leafless and fruitless; 
the other is clothed in beautiful foliage and groaning be- 
neath the weight of its fruity burden. Upon both trees the 



The Christian Alchemy. 283 



same sun shines, the same rains fall, the same dews distill. 
What makes the wonderful difference? One tree is rotten 
at the roots, while the other has within its heart that strange 
vital force which assimilates all things into glowing and 
luscious fruitage. So it is in the moral world. The prin- 
ciple of love is the vital force in the heart that transforms 
every experience into moral good. This is the divine solu- 
tion of the moral paradoxes of the world. You see a man 
of consecrated purpose, unflinching integrity, and quench- 
less love to God, and he is poor like other men, sick like 
other men, fails like other men, suffers like other men, is 
bereaved as other men, and dies as other men; and you 
ask, "Where is the difference between a man who loves 
God and the man who hates God?" Ah! my friends, we 
do not sec every thing in a human life when we see its ex- 
ternal phenomena. When the servant of Elisha iooked 
upon the mountain he saw only its verd ireless shoulders, its 
barren summit, its rock-ribbed side; lut the prophet saw 
the chariots of God and the mighty angels wheeling through 
the air. So in the human heart faith sees what sight does 
not see— love, with its own alembic, transforming every ore 
of experience into the gold of eternal good. " What more 
beautiful than the pond-lily? It sits like a queen on a float- 
ing throne of matchless emerald. Now shut out that figure 
and look below; you see a green slime and black mud. 
And yet out of that black mud and green slime has been 
woven the white robe of this queen of flowers." So it is 
with him who loves God; out of the black mud of slander 
and green slime of calumny he weaves " the white flower of 
a stainless life." 

"All things work together for good to them that love 
God." What a grand conception is this of Christian sta- 
tion and principle! Upon the Rock of Ages as a pedestal, 
with faith and hope as heaven-built columns, the Christian 



284 The Christian Alchemy. 

sits upon his throne of love. Underneath him are vast lab- 
oratories of forces, around him grand magazines of power, 
above him great empires of activity. All of them sweep 
and circle and burst and surge against his shining throne ; 
but every force and power is the willing slave of the mas- 
ter-love in his heart. If the winds of misfortune blow, love 
speaks, and they subside into whispering melodies of peace; 
if the hot simooms of slander, charged with poison and 
freighted with death, dash against his throne, love converts 
them -into an inner robe of righteousness whiter than the 
light; if the fires of hell kindle their lurid flames around 
him, he wears an asbestos garment of purity that no fire 
can harm, and holds within his grasp a policy in an insur- 
ance company that the fires of the last day cannot break. 
The love in his heart sinks its shafts deep down into the 
mines of his deadliest sorrows, and brings up the true gold 
of absolute good. Tears, at the wondrous touch of love, 
blaze into lustrous diamonds in the coronet of his conse- 
crated heart, and every sorrow is suddenly transformed into 
the setting of a luminous jewel of joy. 

It is only in the light of this principle that you can un- 
derstand the power of Paul's experience. Remembering 
this wonderful power of love, turn now to 2 Cor. iv. 8, 9, and 
vi. 8-11, and see if new light does not dawn upon your mind. 
Listen to his words, and how else can you explain them? 
" We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed ; we are 
perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken ; 
cast down, but not destroyed; . . . by honor and dishonor, 
by evil report and good report; as deceivers, and yet true; 
as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and, behold, we 
live; as chastened, and not killed; as sorrowful, yet always 
rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having noth- 
ing, yet possessing all things. O ye Corinthians, our mouth 
is opened unto you, our heart is enlarged." No wonder his 



The Christian Alchemy. 285 

mouth was opened and his heart enlarged. He had grasped 
the solution of the great problem of life. His own con- 
sciousness throbbed with the wonderful power of love in 
molding all the forces of life into eternal good. Yes, bless- 
ed be His holy name, nothing can harm us if we be lovers 
of God! Come smiles or tears, come weal or woe, come 
sunburst or storm ; let worlds shoot from their orbits into 
outer darkness — let a universe flame with the fires of the 
last conflagration, and out of the sparks of its burning God 
will w T rite upon the debris of its wreck and ruin these 
words of Paul : "All things work together for good to them 
that love God." 



The Gain of the World and the Loss of the Soul 



" What shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, 
and lose his own soul?" (Mark viii. 36.) 

MY text is an example in moral arithmetic. Our Sav- 
iour converts the world into a school-room, the human 
family into students, and, as the great Teacher, writes out 
the problem on the blackboard of the gospel, and then 
leaves it for us to work out the answer. It is a very prac- 
tical example. There is nothing subtle, or philosophic, or 
metaphysical, or mystifying in its statement. It appeals 
only to our common sense and business instincts. In some 
form Ave are asking the question every day, " What shall 
it profit?" As one has said, there is not a steam-boat 
that plies our rivers, or a railway stretching across our 
hills and valleys; not a company formed, or a copartner- 
ship hinted at, but a thousand voices ask in chorus, "What 
shall it profit?" It is a question common to wholesale and 
retail enterprises; it is asked in private and in public; it is 
asked by your smallest tradesman and your merchant 
princes ; it is asked in your streets and in your committee- 
rooms; it is asked in your banks and places of exchange, 
over your counters and in your manufactories, in your 
great railroad syndicates and in your gigantic corporations ; 
it is asked by old and young, by rich and poor, by lawyer 
and by doctor, by farmer and by merchant — again and 
again, amid every disguise and variety of language — " What 
shall it profit?" And while this inquiry is thus being 
urged so eagerly and hurriedly by men, Jesus Christ comes 
into the world, comes into this sanctuary to-day, and pro- 
(286) 



The Gain of the World and the Loss of the Soul. 287 

pounds to us the most important of all questions of profit 
and loss: "What shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the 
whole world, and lose his own soul?" 
I. Let us look at this question. 

1. The proposition stated: Two pictures are held up be- 
fore us. On the one side is the picture of a man who is 
the undisputed owner and proprietor of the whole world ; 
on the other side is the picture of a man whose soul is lost, 
the price which he paid for his ownership of the world. 
So, then, with a consciousness that the world is his, and 
with a consciousness that his soul is lost, what is the profit 
of the bargain or investment? Does he gain or lose by the 
transaction? If he gains, in what does his gain consist? 
If he loses, in what does his loss consist? This is the mean- 
ing of the text ; and in order to solve the problem or work 
out the example, we must examine the property which he 
has acquired, and the price which he paid for it. 

2. Look, then, at what the man has gained — " the whole 
world." If you attempt an inventory of his property, you 
will put down: 

(1) The material products of the world: Its golden har- 
vests; its luscious fruits of every zone and climate; its deli- 
cious beverages; its substantial and delicate meats from 
forest, river, and ocean; its gold and silver; its gleaming 
pearls and blazing diamonds — all of these, in their inex- 
haustible variety and affluent quantity, are his unshared 
property. 

(2) Added to this material wealth are the honors and 
applause of earth. The text supposes that the man has 
all that the world can give in unstinted quantity. He re- 
ceives the adulation not only of one nationality or conti- 
nent or hemisphere, but of both hemispheres. Every knee 
bows to him in reverence, and every tongue confirms his 
greatness. The text supposes, too, that these tokens of ag- 



288 The Gain of the World and the Loss of the Soul. 

grandizement are willingly conferred. He possesses the 
friendship and love of the world. 

(3) Besides these, he has all the enjoyment that this life 
is susceptible of. This millionaire of millionaires is supposed 
to be a man of uninterrupted good health, and always in a 
proper mood for entering into the pleasures by which he is 
surrounded. His mind is cultured so as to enjoy science 
and philosophy, his ear is trained to appreciate music, his 
eye feasts upon every vision of beauty, and his palate dis- 
tinguishes every delicious flavor. So that, from whatever 
stand-point you look upon him or his possessions, you be- 
hold not only a magnificent inheritance, a splendid estate, 
but capacity for the keenest enjoyment. 

Now, we know from experience and from history that no 
one man ever has or ever will gain the whole world. Some 
few men, like Alexander and the Roman Caesars, have con- 
quered many countries of n hemisphere, a few compara- 
tively are monarchs of kingdoms and empires, a few are 
millionaires in temporal possessions, and a few have suffi- 
cient health to enjoy all the luxuries and elegances of life ; 
but the large majority of those w r ho barter their souls for 
this world have a very small — an almost infinitesimal — frac- 
tion of earth's wealth, honor, or enjoyment. Like Esau, 
they sell their birthrights for one mess of the world's pot- 
tage. But in order to emphasize and intensify the question, 
the text allows us to suppose that one man possesses the en- 
tire world. This, then, is what he gains by his bargain. 

3. Now let us look at the price he pays — the loss of his 
soul. In order to understand what he has parted with in 
the transaction, and compare it with what he has obtained, 
and then determine whether he has lost or gained, we must 
try to ascertain the value of the soul lost. 

What do we mean by the soul? Certainly not this bod- 
ily life, which is ushered into existence by birth, throbs and 



The Gain of the World and the Loss of the Soul. 289 

pulsates for a few years, and then passes away never to re- 
turn. But by the soul our Saviour in this passage means 
that immaterial, intangible, imponderable substance in ev- 
ery man ; the informing principle of his entire being which 
looks out upon the universe through the eye and listens 
through the ear; that mysterious essence in each of us 
" which thinks but which is not thought, which loves and 
hates but which is neither love nor hate, which reasons 
and imagines but which is not reason nor imagination, 
which is conscious and remembers but which is neither 
consciousness nor memory ; that unmeasured depth and aw- 
ful abyss of life which each one of us carries with us every- 
where; the mystery of all mysteries, and yet which is our in- 
most self, our distinct personality." It is this substance which 
my text says so many pay as the price of the world's gain. 
Its worth, by whatever standard estimated, is truly great. 

(1) It has an intrinsic value growing out of its high ori- 
gin: it is the offspring of God, bearing the divine signa- 
ture upon every part; it is stamped with God's image — 
"Jehovah's breath," a spark of fire flung from the Uncre- 
ated Orb. Its origin is not on a par with the physical uni- 
verse. The physical universe sustains the relation to God 
that the house sustains to the architect, the painting to the 
artist, the statue to the sculptor; but the soul sustains the 
relation to God of a child to the father; and as the child 
is more valuable to the sculptor than his marble statue, so 
the soul is of more value than material nature. The phys- 
ical .universe is God-thought, and represents divine power 
and wisdom ; the soul is God-born, and represents the pa- 
ternity of the divine nature. The soul is a jewel from the 
crown of the Fatherhood of God, possessing an inherent 
worth beyond computation. 

(2) But this value is vastly augmented when we add to 
it the worth of its capacities and possibilities. It possesses 

19 



290 The Gain of the World and the Loss of the Soul. 

what philosophers call the " capacity for the infinite." As 
it sprung from God, so it apprehends God, the essence of 
his being, the law of his nature, his will, which is but the 
transcript of his being ; and it has possibilities of rising up 
into alliance with God, into fellowship with him, and may 
participate in the divine nature. Just as a diamond may be 
permeated by the light and warm its own heart with the sun's 
exquisite fires, so the soul may be permeated by God, and its 
essence warmed into activity by the fire of the Holy Ghost. 
Just as a dew-drop mirrors a star at night and globes the 
sun by day, so does the soul mirror and globe Almighty God. 
In this capacity of its nature I behold a priceless worth. 

(3) Its value grows upon us when we look farther at its 
place or station in the scale of creation. It stands at the 
very head. It is not simply the " brightest link in nat- 
ure's chain/' but is outside and above nature. Nature is 
but the background, and the soul is the central figure. 
The soul is*not merely a part of the furniture of the globe, 
but it is the lord of it all. Sun, moon, and stars borrow 
their worth from their relations to the soul. It is the hi^h- 
priest of this lower temple. The physical creation is but 
the school-room for the training of its powers and for the 
discipliue of its faculties — the mere theater for the exhibi- 
tion of its own greatness. It is within itself a microcosm 
of beauty, a universe of grandeur and possible bliss. 

(4) Add to this the soul's power of action, its ability to 
achieve results. Look at whet it has already accomplished 
in the domain of philosophy — elaborating chaotic concep- 
tions into perfect systems of thought, gathering truth from 
every quarter, and by synthesis and analysis forming it into 
a cosmos of beauty and strength ; going thence into the sci- 
ence of government, framing constitutions, legislating laws, 
overthrowing empires and building upon their ruins gi- 
gantic republics; thence it passes into the bright empyrean 



The Gain of the World and the Loss of the Soul. 291 

of art, creating worlds of its own, gazing upon and hand- 
ling visions of ideality with as much ease and rapture as 
the eye gazes upon external forms. It chisels into dead 
marble a living, breathing thought, and brings into object- 
ive expression in color, a subjective, colorless ideal; and 
then at its leisure it steps over into the empire of physical 
nature and tames and. yokes all its forces to its own chariot 
of progress. Thus we see what a power for achievement 
the soul possesses ; and this is always considered an element 
of value in estimating the worth of any substance or thing. 
(5) But that which impresses my mind most deeply with 
the soul's priceless value is what God has done to save it from 
sin. He has introduced into his essential and absolute gov- 
ernment a temporary and primary government — a media- 
torial kingdom — whose sovereign end and aim is the libera- 
tion of the human soul from evil. The introduction and 
maintenance of this kingdom involves an outlay of infinite 
wisdom and infinite power. It involves the united agency 
of the Godhead — Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ; it involves 
an entirely new and powerful system of motives acting 
upon the human soul; it involves the ministry and cooper- 
ation of angelic hierarchies. Not only so, but in order to 
redeem the human soul, the only-begotten Son must be in- 
carnated, suffer, and die. Surely, in the estimation of an- 
gels and God, the soul must be of great importance. 
Would the sacrifice of not merely a good man, or of an 
angel, or of an archangel, but of God's only-begotten Son, 
have been made for a trifling thing, a creature of a day? 
You would not be willing to sacrifice much for mere tin- 
sel, but you would sacrifice heavily for gold or diamonds 
or other precious stones. Surely, then, in view of what 
God has done to redeem it, the soul must be a moral sap- 
phire, a celestial diamond, a pearl of great price. O my 
friends, if you wish a true conception of the value of your 



292 The Gain of the World and the Loss of the Soul. 

soul, go look at Christ in the garden! Why that ineffable 
anguish ? why those strong cries and tears ? why that pros- 
tration upon the ground in sorrow? why that bloody sweat? 
why that heart-prayer, " Father, if it be possible, let this 
cup pass?" O in every throb of anguish, in every cry of 
agony, in every tear-drop of sorrow, in every motion of the 
body, in every bead of sweat that rolled from his brow, in 
every intonation of his voice in prayer^ read the price of 
the human soul! And then follow him to Calvary, and 
take the thorns from his brow and the nails from his feet 
and hands, and dip them in the blood that flows from his 
side ; and while the earth is reeling under your feet, write 
upon the sun-darkened sky, " Ye are bought with a price, 
ye are redeemed by the blood of Jesus," and you will get 
some idea of God's value of the human soul. 

(6) There is one other element of worth in the soul which 
must not be left out — its immortality. In estimating the 
value of any desirable substance, its durability has great 
weight. So, added to the factors which I have mentioned 
as belonging to the soul, there is this concerning all of them 
— immortality. I cannot stop to demonstrate that the soul 
is immortal. I assume that you grant it. It will not die 
with the body, but will live forever. Within these phys- 
ical frames the soul sits as the immortal guest; and when 
this outward life shall perish, and the body return to the 
dust, the tenant shall live on in another w r orld and under 
other conditions. The soul is a torch, kindled by the Spirit 
of God, which the waters of death shall not put out; it shall 
shine forever. 

Now, my friends, the human soul, with all these elements 
of value, is the price which you are asked to give for the 
gain of the world. Take out the scales of the sanctuary 
and put the world on one side and the soul on the other. 
On which side is the preponderance of weight? " On the 



The Gain of the World and the Loss of the Sold. 293 

side of the world," you say. Yes, that is true. If you es- 
timate the soul's value by its avoirdupois, by its bulk or 
magnitude, then the man who exchanges his soul for the 
world realizes great profit ; but, as we all know, value is not 
determined by weight. All true worth begins in self-con- 
sciousness; and it is for this reason that the soul is of more 
value than all material nature. " If I am caught upon 
some mountain pathway or some glittering glacier by the 
fragment of an avalanche, and hurled, battered and bleed- 
ing, into the deep crevasse, there to gasp out my crushed 
life in a few minutes of time, I can lift up my hand and 
say: O Alp, I, dying, am greater than thou! I die con- 
sciously ; thou unconsciously hast crushed me." 

It is this element of consciousness which makes the hu- 
man soul of more value than all worlds, and counts the 
astonishing magnificence of intelligent creation poor as 
compared to its own wealth. O then, how we shudder to 
think that the soul may be lost — lost to God, lost to itself, 
lost in hell! This divine argosy, freighted with vastest 
wealth, launched upon the ocean of existence, with most lav- 
ish expenditure, may be stranded upon the reef of sin, and 
its splendid jewel sunk in the infinite abyss. 

II. We have seen what it is to gain the world. Let us 
try to get some idea of what it is to lose the soid. 

1. It implies a loss of that world it has gained. The time 
during which any man may enjoy the world is limited. No 
matter how much he has obtained, in a few years it must 
pass out of his hands. In the hour of death the million- 
aire and mendicant are equal. Then our title-deed to lands, 
our certificates of deposit in the bank, our houses, all pass 
into the hands of others. The world leaves us, and we 
leave the world. It cannot go with us, and we cannot stay 
with it. So that in the end the loss of the soul implies the 
loss of all its sources of enjoyment. The man -loved the 



294 The Gain of the World and the Loss of the Soul. 

beauty of earth, but its glories shall be spread before him 
no more forever. He loved home, but he has gazed upon 
its holy shrine for the last time; he loved money, but not 
one dollar can he take with him. His friends, his wife and 
children, are all lost. 

2. Not only so, but the lost soul loses all capacity for 
enjoyment severed from its connections with this world. 
You can see how that principle operates here. Take a man 
who has gained millions, loved money with a miserly greed, 
and suddenly wrench it from his grasp ; he will go mad, or 
commit suicide, or settle down into melancholy. Look at 
Napoleon, who loved glory. When that passed, his life 
was a prolonged dirge. So in the loss of the soul. Stripped 
of that world which it loved, its capacities for enjoyment 
are gone. Nothing can ever again awake an agreeable emo- 
tion. Those very passions and appetites which gave pleas- 
ure here will be transformed into sources of torture. You 
remember the fabled Prometheus, bound in chains upon the 
Caucasian rock, with the beak and talons of a vulture prey- 
ing upon his vitals unceasingly, and yet without power to 
die; so will a lost soul be a Prometheus, bound upon the 
lightning-scarred rocks of hell, and every appetite and pas- 
sion and lust a vulture's beak gnawing at the core of its 
immortality through eternity. 

3. It is hardly necessary for me to add that the loss of 
the soul implies loss of heaven. Across the impassable 
gulf the spirit may gaze upon its jasper walls and behold 
its transcendent beauty, and watch its spires tipped with 
glory ; but walk its golden streets and enjoy its blessedness, 
never. The fields of light, the bowers of paradise, the 
fountains of living water, the tree of life, will be in full 
view. The holy angels, in all their beauty and purity, will 
stand in sight. Before the eye of the lost soul will pass in 
procession the happy throng of the redeemed, arrayed in 



The Gain of the World and the Loss of the Soul. 295 

robes of white, with crowns on their heads, and harps in 
their hands, and shouts of praise on their lips; but the 
bright vision will only intensify the misery of the soul with 
a consciousness that it is all lost to him forever. With these 
imperfect views of the world's gain and the soul's loss, answer 
the question of the text: " What shall it profit a man, if he 
shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?" 

It may be that to-day, with a conscious possession of the 
enjoyment of worldly wealth, honor, and pleasure, and an 
unconsciousness of the soul's loss, you may say, " Great is 
the profit of the bargain." Furthermore, if you could be 
assured that you could live in this world forever, you might 
decide that you had made a profitable investment. Or, if 
when you died that was the last of you, even then to lose 
your soul for the gain of the world would be a paying 
transaction. But, in view of the fact that you must die, 
and that your soul will live forever, where is the profit ? 
Take this question with you, stand beside a death-bed, and 
see how it strikes you there — death too under the most in- 
inviting circumstances. It is the philosopher, scientist, hero, 
statesman, millionaire, who is dying. His fevered frame 
lies upon a bed of eider-down ; his aching head rests upon 
softest pillows ; frescoed walls, adorned with beautiful pict- 
ures, invite the gaze of his half-open eyes; damas*k and 
lace shade and mellow the light that falls like angel touches 
upon his pale face ; wife and children tread softly on velvet 
carpets as they weep by his bedside and soothe his pain 
with sweetest ministries ; friends innumerable, with hushed 
whispers and anxious faces, inquire at the door after his 
condition ; and the most skillful physicians attend him. But 
at last an invisible form stands by his side, and an unseen 
finger presses his pulse and touches his heart, and then 
points steadily into eternity. His time has come : the states- 
man, poet, world's hero, millionaire, must die. His hand 



296 The Gain of the World and the Loss of the Soul, 

is in the clasp of warm affection, and his eyes meet the 
long, steady gaze of love about to be bereaved. He has 
known every joy, every pleasure, every rapture; has had 
fame, power, money ; has tasted — ay, drained — every cup of 
love ; gained the world. But he must go — is gone ! Now, 
then, as you gaze upon those glazed eyes, pallid features, 
bloodless lips, ask this question : " What shall it profit a 
man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own 
soul?" And yet, O my friends! that is not the place to 
ask it. Follow him as his soul embarks upon the silent 
sea and sails into hell's dark harbor. Shriveled, crippled, 
deformed, dwarfed, reeking and rotting with sin, bound 
hand and foot in chains of dayless night, in the dark pris- 
on-house of the damned — behold him there, a lost soul ! It 
is impossible for us, with our limited experience and knowl- 
edge, to realize the awful fact wrapped up in those three 
words — a lost soul. Its eternal abode is called in Scripture 
a place of " outer darkness ;" a ruined, blasted world, where 
no light ever dawns, nor flowers blossom, nor birds sing, nor 
sun illumines, nor stars shine. The only sounds heard are 
" weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth." 

An eloquent minister, now deceased, conceived the idea 
that by the soul's loss is not meant its confinement in any 
particular locality, but that it is simply lost in space. Just 
as a child when lost wanders bewildered through the woods, 
not knowing where it is, going round and round without a 
resting-place ; or like a ship at sea that has lost its latitude 
and longitude, rudder, chart, and compass, now gliding on 
a glassy sea, now riding upon the waves, now groaning in 
the clutches of the cyclone; or like a bright world that has 
broken away from its centripetal bond, and under the force 
of its centrifugal momentum rushes wildly and madly 
through space, careering lawlessly through the infinite 
depths — so he conceived the condition of a lost soul ; lost in 



The Gain of the World and the Loss of the Soul. 297 

illimitable space. Now sinking down and down, and again 
rising up and up, and yet finding no resting-place, seeing 
nothing, hearing nothing — alone, alone! and on fire with 
fierce agony, and doomed to wander thus forever. Wheth- 
er this be true, we know not; but we do know v that it will 
be torture beyond expression ; and torture not only unut- 
terable, but forever. As " eternity " is stamped upon every 
joy of the saved, so it is stamped upon every misery of the 
lost. The same word w r hich defines the duration of the 
one also defines the duration of the other. When the lost 
soul shall have been in hell more millions of years than 
rays of light have streamed from the sun since it first rolled 
its fiery chariot across the sky, it will have learned that all 
that passes in eternity takes nothing from eternity. Eter- 
nity ! eternity ! it is this which gives hell its anguish and 
the lake of fire its depth ! 

O my God, let burning fever parch lips and brow ; let 
every breath be drawn in pain ; let me be crucified, or bound 
to an iceberg in the ocean, or chained to a funeral-pyre and 
burned to death ; but let not my soul be wrecked on the 
rock of an endless despair, nor lost forever in the outer 
darkness of hell; for Christ has said, "What shall it profit 
a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own 
soul?" 



Tlje Comparative Value of Life. 

"A man's life consistetli not in the abundance of the things which 
he possesseth." (Luke xii. ]5.) 

THE most thrilling and electric word, in any language, is 
the word that represents life. It is the starting-point of 
all being, and of all things. Life is the basis of all thought in 
thinking, the explanation of all action in activity, the condi- 
tion of all love in loving. In that one word life are wrapped 
all the possibilities of the universe. It is the most com- 
prehensive of ail ideas, because it reaches from those minute 
forms of life, which constitute the phosphorescence of the 
sea, up to its infinite and absolute existence in God. Conse- 
quently, biology, which treats of the origin and nature of 
life, ranks among the distinguished sciences. Ever since 
the microscope has been in use, it has been kept busy peer- 
ing into that deepest of all secrets — the secret of life. 
What is life? Whence its origin? What its essence? 
These are the subtle and perplexing questions which, in ev- 
ery age, biology has been trying to answer. You may be 
surprised to know that these questions are still unanswered. 
There have been a large number of opinions expressed, hy- 
potheses suggested, and theories broached ; but no satisfac- 
tory answer has been given. 

Life seems to be a simple principle, and therefore incapa- 
ble of analysis. It can be recognized only by its symptoms. 
You may ask the sunbeam that has power to illuminate, 
the lightning that has power to scathe, the dew-drop that 
has power to refresh, the magnet that has power to attract, 
the eye that has power to see — you may ask all these 
(298) 



Tlie Comparative Value of Life. 299 

agents of power the secret and essence of their endowment, 
and they are dumb. So it is of life. We detect it only by 
its signs and movements. We call it "growth " in the vegeta- 
ble ; " feeling and movement" in the animal ; "thought and re- 
flection" in man. We see its flashes in the eye, we hear its 
sounds through the ear, we are thrilled by its pulsations. 
But what is life in itself, in its essence? is the unanswerable 
question. 

One man has been brave enough to give a formulated 
definition of life. As an intellectual curiosity, I will repeat 
it: "Life is the definite combination of heterogeneous 
changes, both simultaneous and successive, in correspondence 
with external coexistences and sequences." (Herbert Spen- 
cer.) If any man has ever been made wiser by this defini- 
tion, he has not had the moral courage to confess it. Life, 
my friends, is the gift of God ; it is "a ray of the Creator's be- 
ing and of the Creator's beauty." While, therefore, we may 
not discover its essence, yet there is a thought suggested in 
my text which we may determine. 

The comparative tvorth, the intrnisic value, of life. 

1. And to ascertain the value of any particular form of 
life we must look at its quality, or what it is that lives. 
We all know that there are different kinds of life on our 
globe. We can imagine a period in the past when our 
world was a lifeless world — a huge mass of inert, inorganic 
matter rolling through space. But upon this barren soil God 
deposited the seeds of every living herb, and then the first 
signs of life appeared in vegetation. Very soon the grass 
carpeted the globe in emerald, flowers perfumed the un- 
freighted waves of air, and trees began to reach their per- 
pendicular trunks toward the stars. 

On top of vegetable life there was planted animal life, in 
which I include not only beasts, but insects, fishes, nnd birds. 
So that, in addition to the soil of the globe, the sea and the 



300 The Comparative Value of Life. 

atmosphere began to §warm with another form of life. In 
looking at animal life we observe that it is dependent upon 
the lower forms of vegetable life, and in addition to its at- 
tributes it also possesses a certain low species of pain and 
pleasure. It is the first opening of conscious life. Super- 
induced on mere animal life, and dependent upon it, as 
animal life is dependent upon vegetable, is human life, or 
life as found in man. In him we find, for the first time, in- 
telligent, conscious life. Here, then, we have three different 
sorts of life ; differing not simply in degree, but in kind — 
vegetable, animal, and human. It is evident, in determin- 
ing the comparative value of life, that the highest worth 
must be ascribed to human life, because it is conscious and 
intelligent. The meanest brute or tiniest bird is of more 
value than the most lovely flower or the greatest tree, be- 
cause brute and bird can feel — are conscious of pain or 
pleasure, while trees and flowers are not. But the smallest 
child is of greater value than the sweetest singing bird, or 
the noblest brute, because the child has not only conscious 
life, but intelligent conscious life. All human life throbs 
with pulsations of divinity; and in that one fact, of pos- 
sessing intelligent consciousness, man has the pledge that 
all preceding forms of life were preparatory for him, and 
that they find their highest value in ministering to his good. 
All nature was made for man. Her continuance is de- 
pendent on man's continuance. If man had been destroyed 
when he sinned, nature would have been destroyed. If you 
were to imagine the work of creation as having stopped be- 
fore it reached man, you could see no reason for creation ; 
but as soon as man appears on the scene — who can appre- 
ciate the works of creation and enjoy them — then you can 
see how all nature has its value in relation to him. Of 
what use were stars if no human eye to gaze on stars? Of 
what use were flowers if no human being to enjoy their 



The Comparative Value of Life. 301 

beauty and fragrance? Hence, after God had formed the 
imposing upholstery of the world; after he had roofed it 
with unpillared canopy all studded with stars; after he had 
garlanded it with rivers, and planted it with gardens ; after 
he had flung up its mountain-slopes and covered them with 
forests; after he had enthroned the moon as queen over 
the firmament of night and the sun as the king of day, 
then he introduced man, and by his side a sweet compan- 
ion — the priest and priestess of this magnificent temple of 
nature. 

We must therefore admit that man's life in itself is a 
great phenomenon. It is a grand thing simply to live. If 
a man's life consisteth only in its natural endowments it is 
a profound fact, a momentous verity. There is a real pleas- 
ure in the mere act of living — in the beating pulse, the throb- 
bing heart, the circulation of blood, the vibration of nerve, 
the flashing eye, the listening ear, in the play of thought, 
the sweep of imagination, the flow of feeling, the ebullition 
of sentiment. " Many a time does man, in the strength and 
joy of physical health, standing amid the teeming wonders 
of life on this globe, open his whole nature to the reception 
of the influences that stream in upon him from bird-song 
and cloud-wave, from stars and flowers, and landscapes and 
mountains, and lift up his heart to the great Creator and 
say : ' O God, I thank thee that I live! ' " Life is a grand 
inheritance. It is worth all of its risks and hazards and 
experiments. If it involved nothing but sovereignty of 
nature — worship in this lower cathedral, proprietorship in 
the wealth and knowledge of the material — even on this plane 
of thought it is better "to be" than "not to be." 

But man's life c|pes not consist in mere living. Its com- 
parative value is not found simply in intelligent existence. 
Other factors must enter into our estimate of the grandeur 
and dignity and worth of life. 



302 The Comparative Value of Life. 

2. In determining the value of any human life we must 
consider who lives, not only the quality but the personality 
of life. We know that all human lives are not of equal 
worth. The life of a freeman is more valuable than the 
life of a slave ; the life of a patriot than the life of a traitor ; 
the life of a philosopher than the life of a fool; and the life 
of a saint than the life of a sinner. Life in Plato is grander 
than life in Epicurus ; and life in Paul is grander than life 
in Plato; and life in Christ is grander than life in Paul. 
Personal character thus must enter into our estimate of the 
dignity and importance of man's life. 

(1) Again, the value of life is also determined by its form 
of utterance or expression ; for example, there is what we 
call an abstract life — a life that expends all its vital re- 
sources in abstractions and speculations, in theories and the 
building of castles in the air. Such lives do not touch the 
real whirl and activity of the world. They have their uses, 
but they do not possess as much worth as a concreted life. 
Dreamers and poets may be practical drones. The world is 
moved by practical men — men whose brain-power is expend- 
ed not so much in the discovery of new truths as in inven- 
tion — in the combination of nature's forces to the develop- 
ment of her resources. It is the practical application of 
known truths that makes progress, that keeps the world in 
motion, that evolves the highest civilization. 

(2) And then, again, the achievements and results of life 
determine its value. 

Looking at my subject from, this stand-point, we see that 
some human lives are measured simply by what they consume. 
They drink so much water, wear out so much manufactured 
wool, cotton, and leather, and eat so much bread and bacon. 
The achievements of other lives are measured only by the 
amount of evil they do. The springs of life within are 
poisoned. Every stream that issues from the heart and 



The Comparative Value of Life. 303 

flows upon the world carries blight and woe. Their 
thoughts are evil, their imaginations are impure, their minds 
are workshops in which diabolical schemes are concocted, 
and where death is bom. Every thing they touch with- 
ers, and the progress of their lives is marked only by black 
monuments of ruin. It were far better for such if they had 
never been born. But the achievements and results of oth- 
er lives are measured by good influences. These are the only 
lives of real value that are lived. Such a lite is an inex- 
haustible fountain of blessedness. It is like the sun that 
gilds into golden beauty every thing it touches. It is in 
itself a glorious benediction, a grand doxology, pouring eter- 
nal harmonies into the great heart of humanity. 

Earnest faith and quenchless love are the supreme forces 
of such a life. Both must be combined to achieve good. 
Faith without love makes a bigot. Love without faith 
makes a fanatic. The one is the engineer without the lo- 
comotive ; the other is the locomotive without the engineer. 
The one the head without the heart; the other the heart 
without the head. Both together make an earnest life, op- 
ulent in grand results. The reason why life is stagnant in 
the Church is because faith and love are not in earnest. 
Earnest faith in God, and earnest love for God ; earnest 
faith in the truth, and earnest love for the truth; earnest 
faith in Christ, and earnest love for Christ : these are the 
highest and holiest elements of man's true life, and the 
achievements of such a life are unutterably momentous. 
This truth must be realized if we would make our lives 
truly valuable. "'Tis not all of life to live." It is some- 
thing more than existence; it is not a golden dream, but a 
solemn reality ; not a plaything, but a priceless jewel ; not 
a luxurious dormitory, but a fierce battle-field; not a gor- 
geous picture-gallery for complacent self-exhibition, but a 
training-school for spiritual culture — a stepping-stone to 



304 The Comparative Value of Life. 

heaven, the vestibule of eternal glory. When this great 
truth takes hold upon us and becomes a part of us, our lives 
will be like God's eternal stars — " unhasting, unresting, each 
one fulfilling its God-given hest." 

(3) Again, in determining the constituent elements of 
man's life, and in what its true grandeur consists, we look 
at its aims and purposes. It was at this point specially our 
Saviour directed the words of the text. 

The supreme aim of many lives centers in accumulation. 
All the powers of mind and heart are enlisted in the ac- 
complishment of this end. 

"What shall I eat? what shall I drink? wherewithal 
shall I be clothed? is the one great thought of thousands of 
lives. Every thing culminates within the domain of appe- 
tite. It is the prostitution of the distinctive grandeur of 
humanity down to the life of a brute. We read of wolves 
in sheep's clothing, of political foxes, of financial rats. 
What is the meaning of these phrases if they do not mean 
that some men are intellectual animals in human shape — 
men with, perhaps, grand endowments of mind joined to 
brute aims and purposes? An experienced pastor once re- 
marked to a co-laborer that he intended to preach a sermon 
to his people to prove to them that they actually had souls. 
His idea was that they were so absorbed in providing for 
the body that they had forgotten their immortal spirits. 
Our Saviour taught a great lesson in this direction when he 
said a man's life does not consist in the abundance of his 
possessions — his money, his real estate; these are not the 
man himself, they are outside of him — mere incidents and 
accidents of existence. A man is what he is, not what he 
has. Life consists in being something, not in having some- 
thing. Life in its highest sense and deepest meaning is un- 
folded only under the great aim of giving God glory and 
doing good to man, . . 



The Comparative Value of Life. 305 

A life that centers in self and self-aggrandizement misses 
the end of its creation. It is only when we live for God 
that life rises in majesty and unfolds in beauty. It is then 
that it takes on value amid the intelligences of God's uni- 
verse, and finds the true end of existence. And in propor- 
tion as we live for the glory of God do we work for the re- 
demption of man. God's world and God's children lie in the 
polluting embrace of the wicked one, They are the captives 
of Satan. To redeem them, Christ died and rose again; to 
sanctify them, the Holy Ghost is given. And now to see 
these slaves of sin become the freemen of God ; to see the 
devotees of the world become the followers of the Lamb ; 
to see the demons of envy and pride, selfishness and vanity, 
hatred and resentment, driven out of tlie human heart, and 
the bright-robed angels of joy and peace, long-suffering 
and gentleness, benevolence and brotherly love, take their 
places ; to see all ranks of society, from the proud monarch 
on his throne to the miserable beggar in his rags„ saints 
and fellow-citizens of God's everlasting kingdom — O my 
friends, these are the heaven-ordained, the heaven-approved 
purposes and aims, the grand elements in which man's high- 
est life consists ! 

4. But in estimating the constituent elements of life there 
is one other consideration which must not be omitted. I, 
mean its connections and relations. There are two worlds 
that completely environ human beings — the world of the 
seen and temporary, and the world of the unseen and eter- 
nal. In either of these two worlds all the relations and 
connections of our lives may take root and fructify. We 
may live entirely with reference to this present constitution ; 
our forecasting of the future may reach no farther than 
the grave; we may say with the infidel scientist that "death 
ends all," that all our plans and achievements terminate in 
the sepulcher ; or we may root these connections and rela- 
20 



306 The Comparative Value of Life. 



tions in the soil of the unseen and the eternal ; we may re- 
gard life not as a duality — with one part extending to U.q 
grave, and the other part reaching onward, onward, we 
know not to what, whether to nonentity or to immortality 
— bul we may regard it as a grand and composite unity, 
and death as simply a crisis, not a dividing-line in life. 

If death does end all, then we must judge of the worth 
of any human life by its issues on this side of death. If 
the grave be the great receptacle in which all human lives 
are hermetically sealed; if the horizon of death be the 
fatal line behind which the sun of every human life is 
quenched in eternal darkness; if the death-river be the 
river of eternal oblivion — then man's truest life consists in 
limiting all its connections to time, and making all its re- 
lations time-relations. Epicurus becomes the greatest of 
philosophers, and Epicureanism the greatest philosophy. 
But if death does not end all ; if the grave is not a termi- 
nus, but simply a tunnel ; " if the life that seems to expire 
is to come up again; if the current of moral causation 
flows on under the channel of the death-river to reappear 
on the other bank — then we must lengthen our view of 
life;" we must estimate its worth by the grandeur of its 
connections with the unseen future. Then, not Epicurus, 
but he who walked the shores of blue-waved Galilee eight- 
een hundred years ago is the great Teacher ; and not Epi- 
cureanism, but Christianity becomes the grand philosophy 
of life. 

O then, my friends, settle this question to-day! Does 
death end all? O no! a thousand times no! There is a 
beyond; there is another world, swept outward by suns 
and stars, in which the roots of this present life may take 
hold and grow. " If it were not so," says Jesus Christ, " I 
would have told you." And, my friends, Christ's silence 
is as full of revelation as his greatest speech. If these 



The Comparative Value of Life. 307 

hopes and loves and aspirations which in every age have 
prophesied eternal futurity were not grand realities, he 
would have enlightened us. But they are true. There is 
a world where all the elements, aims, purposes, and ends 
of this life shall terminate in the sublimest issues. Every 
day we feel its influences pulling at our heart-strings. Why 
is it that the millionaire, surrounded by his untold wealth, 
is not satisfied? why is it that the man of fame, of laurel 
wreaths, and earthly distinctions is so wretched? why does 
the inspired bard sing, " O that I had wings like a dove, 
then would I fly away and be at rest?" It is because life 
does not consist in merely earthly relations and accumula- 
tions; it is because the powers of the world to come are 
attracting us from afar. 

The great planet that moves on the outmost circle of our 
system was discovered because the planet next to it showed 
such perturbations as to be unexplainable except on the sup- 
position that some unknown mass was attracting it from 
across millions of miles of darkling space. So there are 
these spiritual perturbations in our nature which cannot be 
understood except on the supposition that the great Eternal 
Life has power from afar to sway in their orbits these little 
lives of ours. Here we behold only the withheld comple- 
tions of life; there we shall enjoy it in all its fullness. 
You remember the words of the late Bishop Doggett as 
his grand spirit hovered for a few moments upon the con- 
fines of time and eternity before ascending the celestial 
slopes of paradise: "I have seen life in its imperfection; 
I long to see it in its perfection." 

Our highest conception of life is" its existence in God. 
There it is infinite thought, infinite power, infinite love in 
infinite depth and infinite height of expression. I love to 
gaze upon those minute forms of life that frolic in the dew- 
drop and sport in the sunbeam ; in life that blossoms in vi- 



308 The Comparative Value of Life. 

olets and towers in trees ; life that floats on the soft air and 
sings in the tree-tops; life that roams in the woods in tiger 
and lion, and antelope and deer; life that thinks in man and 
loves in woman ; life that worships in angel and adores in 
redeemed Isaiahs and Pauls ; but O these are but drops in 
the ocean, rays in the sun, compared with life in God! and 
that in quality shall be ours in the future. We shall live in 
God. His life shall bound through our spiritual arteries; 
it shall illumine conscience and flood the heart with the 
delirium of infinite gladness. "Is life worth living?" 
Apart from God, dissevered from eternity, no; united to 
God, bound by love to everlasting blessedness, yes. Apart 
from God, life is a curse ; in God, it is the grandest gift. 



The End. 



